


this is all that’s left to look at

by lucyheartfilia



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family, Friends to Lovers, Pretend Relationship Turns Real, We Got Married AU, complete and utter fluff, happy end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 17:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10036943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucyheartfilia/pseuds/lucyheartfilia
Summary: Kurosaki Ichigo’s the lead singer in one of the most successful J-rock bands. Kuchiki Rukia is a Japanese native who’s gained international recognition for her outstanding vocal and dancing skills as a member in one of K-pop’s most iconic girl groups. They are now engaged to be the next virtually married couple on a variety TV show where they’ll be expected to complete weekly missions and live the newlywed life. An IR We Got Married AU.





	1. the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> here it is, my submission for this year’s irbb!! it's inspired by the very popular korean variety show 'we got married' that pairs up idols/actors/models in the industry into a virtual marriage. this is my first time writing ir so i was incredibly nervous. i want to give huge, huge thanks to chie (@daethberry on tumblr) for putting up with me, throwing out some ideas for the fic, giving advice & looking over the first half of the fic back in decemeber, jess (@sequence_fairy on ao3 and @sequencefairy on tumblr) for being so sweet & helpful. thank you so much for beta’ing this incredibly long mess of a fic! the final result wouldn’t be what it is without your help! & finally, marie (@princessmariedeathberry on tumblr) for being the best irbb partner i could ask for and throwing in some amazing suggestions for the fic (including the title of this fic).

“So, I was informed this morning you’ve been cast as one half of the next couple on _We Got Married_ , Kuchiki.” Kuchiki Rukia, who was currently sitting across from her long time manager and close confidant Matsumoto Rangiku, in a trendy little café not far from her group’s entertainment company, nearly choked on the sip of scalding hot tea she had just taken at the sudden remark.

The taller blonde woman snorted in amusement and took a sip of her iced coffee. “Careful now, Rukia-chan.” Rangiku shifted to pull her bag closer to her and withdrew a yellow manila folder, sliding it across the table.

Rukia knew that because her group had had their comeback two weeks prior, she and her members would be making many variety show appearances for promotions but she hadn’t expected the casting on _We Got Married_. The petite vocalist let out a tired sigh. “Is it necessary?”

Having debuted nearly 7 years ago at the age of eighteen as a part of LUNA, an internationally and domestically revered idol group had definitely made her a variety show veteran but she wasn’t sure how she felt about having to pretend to be married.

Rangiku only gave her a pointed look and Rukia knew exactly what that look was trying to convey.

_You know it is._

The smaller woman fiddled with the tea bag in her drink and sighed in defeat. “What’s in the folder?” She jerked her chin in the offending object’s direction.

“That, my dearest, contains your potential husbands for the next few months.” Rangiku grinned mischievously. “I’d choose wisely if I were you.”

Rukia raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I get to pick?” She didn’t know she’d get some kind of say in the deal.

Rangiku shrugged. “I mean your pick isn’t set in stone exactly, but the producers asked that you list them in order of preference and that they would do their best in casting.”

She immediately reached for the folder and tore it open.

There were a total of five profiles: the first one was a much older and well-known comedian she’d met several times, two actors she’d met at awards ceremonies and was well-acquainted with, and a solo musician that she hadn’t quite spoken much to before aside from quick greetings at music shows. The final profile though had caught her eye immediately.

Kurosaki Ichigo.

Her violet eyes caught sight of the small photo the profile provided and traced the familiar features of his handsome face: the always-present scowl, his amber eyes, and of course, his head of orange hair.

She hadn’t personally met him before, but she was no stranger to who he was; she enjoyed the music his band produced since their debut a few years ago. The last few months had seen a sudden popularity of the group in South Korea, their music making it onto the airwaves.

She’d also seen several interviews and he seemed like a very genuine person: passionate, kind, talented and she guessed he maybe had a temper. It could be interesting.

Rukia smirked to herself and reached for a pen to fill out the sheet the show producers had provided her.

In the number one spot she wrote, neatly: _Kurosaki Ichigo_.

* * *

 

_One week later_

Kurosaki Ichigo let out a long sigh and tapped his foot impatiently against the carpeted floor as he waited for Urahara Kisuke, the CEO and founder of UK Entertainment, the entertainment company he was signed to, to enter the room. The young musician had been called in for a meeting and had been waiting for the last half hour in the large office of Urahara’s entertainment company’s Seoul location.

The room was completely silent bar for his rhythmic tapping, the ticking of the clock on the wall, and some occasional sighing. His amber eyes wandered the room looking for any sort of entertainment, eventually settling for looking outside the large glass window with a great view of the busy streets and crowds in the Gangnam district of Seoul.

It had been nearly a month and a half since his and his band’s arrival in South Korea; HOLLOW had been active in Japan for six years now and with their newest album, their band had begun to gain a huge international following.

Urahara had thought that the next step for the band should be to promote in South Korea, one of the countries where they had gained a lot of recognition. They would promote their most recent album while working on a brand new one in Korean, which was to be released within the next year.

Ichigo’s crowd watching was interrupted when at last Urahara made his appearance. “Ichigo,” the older man smirked as he navigated towards his desk to take a seat. “You’re looking handsome today.” Ichigo rolled his eyes in response and ceased his tapping.

“And you’re late,” he deadpanned.

“I know, I know—but I’m a busy man,” Urahara pulled out some folders from a drawer in his desk. “So, Ichigo, I’ve called you in to share some news.”

Ichigo only raised his eyebrows at his light-haired boss and waited for him to continue. “You were offered a spot on _We Got Married_. I accepted the casting offer on your behalf. Filming starts next week.” Urahara gave him an expectant grin but only received a blank stare in return.

Ichigo certainly wasn’t an expert in Korean variety shows but the name of the show rung a bell and from the title, he wasn’t sure he _liked_ the sound of it. He wracked his brain in attempt to recollect anything about the show.

He felt his stomach drop when realization came through; he vaguely remembered snippets of it from when he’d visit back home; his younger sister Yuzu was a fan of the show.

“No.” Ichigo made an attempt to stand from his chair but Urahara stood from his faster, making his way around to position himself in front of his longtime employee, blocking his exit.

“Urahara, do I _really_ look like the type to do variety—especially a show in where I have to pretend to be _married_?” The orange haired singer gave him his best scowl.

“Well, no,” Urahara was frank. “but it’s good exposure for you and your promotions here. I wouldn’t worry too much. I’m sure you’ll be able to charm the audiences somehow—you do have quite the fan base already.”

“My Korean still isn’t that good.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. Yoruichi will be around and there’ll be a lot of help with the translating if need be,” Urahara crossed his arms crossed his chest and gave him a winning grin. “You really don’t have much say in this, Kurosaki.”

Ichigo knew he didn’t but that didn’t mean he couldn’t _try_. Closing his eyes and letting out a long sigh, Kurosaki Ichigo resigned himself to his fate.

“Can I at least know who,” he cringed at the next words that came out of his mouth, “I’m marrying?”

“That, Kurosaki, you will find out come next week when filming begins.” Urahara’s gray eyes travelled to his wristwatch. “Ah, well that’s all I had to say. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got another meeting I’m running late for.”

With a smirk on his face and a quick pat to Ichigo’s shoulder, Urahara briskly walked out of the room, leaving behind an irritated musician.

* * *

 

Rukia looked around the large room curiously. This was where she would be stopping by every week to be interviewed for _We Got Married_. The walls were completely black and in front of her were several cameras, producers, and other staff.

Rukia ran her fingers through her hair as one of the producers made sure her microphone was properly attached to her top.

“Are we ready to shoot?” asked the cameraman, peeking out from behind the camera. The producer gave Rukia a warm smile that she returned and shot the director a signal. “We’re ready.”

“We’ll begin with you introducing yourself,” the cameraman instructed. “And…we’re rolling.”

The petite vocalist gave her best smile at the camera. “Hello, I’m Kuchiki Rukia from LUNA and I’m 25 years old. I’m very happy to be here and I look forward to the married life.”

 Unbeknownst to her, Ichigo was sitting a few rooms away, waiting for his own introductory interview to begin.

* * *

 

It was a new week—the start of December, and the gray skies outside quite seemed to capture his mood. He currently lounged, mug of coffee in hand, inside of moderate-sized apartment in Seoul as he waited for the camera crew to arrive.

 _It’s way too early for this_ , Ichigo thought to himself as he stared blankly at the TV that played a variety show he could hardly understand. He knew he needed to get himself perked up and to appear somewhat approachable for filming.

He was about to take another sip of his coffee when his phone buzzed next to him. He unlocked his phone to see a text message from Shihouin Yoruichi, his longtime manager.

_I’m outside with the camera crew, Kurosaki. Let us in and remember to wipe your permanent scowl off your face._

Twenty minutes later, he found himself surrounded by lights, several cameras, and a crew of about 15 people. He was rather overwhelmed, to say the least.

“Are you ready to start filming?” the producer in charge asked Ichigo in Japanese. The musician looked towards Yoruichi, who only shrugged at him.

“I’m ready,” Ichigo replied. He ran a hand through his hair awkwardly. “So, what do I need to do?”

“Just relax. Show us around a bit so we can get some shots—people will be curious about how you live.”

Ichigo nodded and began to lead the camera crew around. “There’s not much to see, really.” He demonstrated his clean and fully stocked kitchen that garnered impressed murmurs from some of the staff. He led them back into his living room and watched as the cameramen walked around documenting his bookshelves that housed his extensive manga collection, the 3 different guitars he kept in a corner, several figurines he’d collected over the years, and the picture frames of his family he’d hung on his wall.

After a few minutes of them filming his apartment, the producer walked up to him. “We’re ready to start filming you now—just remember to act natural. Pretend the cameras aren’t around.” She extended a hand and offered him a red envelope. “In this envelope is your first mission.”

Swallowing hard, Ichigo took a seat on his couch and opened the envelope. It took him a good moment before he was able to decipher the Hangul characters.

  **TO: Kurosaki Ichigo**

**FIRST MISSION: Decide a time and place for your first meeting and notify your wife.**

**Below is her contact information.**

“I’m supposed to pick a place?” Ichigo glanced up and back down at the card. The orange haired musician was stumped. He didn’t know who the person would be or what she could possibly like. He also didn’t want to go for something mediocre like a café.

_Wait, why did do I even care this much? I don’t even want to do this._

“Does anyone know any good places in Seoul?” he asked the crew hopefully, eliciting some laughter.

Left to figure something out on his own, Ichigo took out his cellphone and began to research ‘good places to take your virtual wife on a first date is it even a date’.

He’d clicked the first link: _“10 Things to do with your Significant Other in Seoul during the Holiday Season”_.

He scrolled down the list slowly, rejecting the first few options until his eyes landed on number nine: Ice-skating.

Ice-skating could work; it was fun and it could help alleviate some of the awkwardness that was sure to come with first meetings. Ichigo looked up and mumbled, “I think I know the place.” He still felt a bit out of place with the cameras around and he had to keep talking despite not having anyone to converse with other than himself.

Now came the hard part. He had to notify her. Should he text her? He was sure the crew expected him to make the phone call but he wasn’t certain. “Do I call her?” he asked in clumsy Korean.

Yoruichi, who stood with some of the crew in a corner, shook her head at him but was relieved to see most of the crew was amused at his awkwardness. The producer in charge gave him an encouraging nod.

With a long sigh some of the crew snickered at, Ichigo grabbed his phone once more and opened up the dial pad. He carefully tapped in the phone number provided on the card and without hesitation pressed the call button, setting the phone on speaker, ignoring the way his chest tightened a bit—he was most definitely _not_ nervous.

The first ring filled the silence in the room. Ichigo tapped his foot anxiously as he waited. Two more rings. Click.

_You’ve reached the voicemail of—_

The orange haired musician looked up at the crew. “She didn’t pick up.” He stated the obvious. “I’ll try calling again.”

* * *

 

Rukia sat in her own apartment, surrounded by cameras and staff from the TV show. Her phone had rung at least four times already. She snickered as she saw her screen light up again, with another incoming call.

She knew it was her “future husband” calling and she wanted to mess with him a little. Rukia would answer the phone call—eventually.

“Gonna make him sweat a little.” She smirked mischievously. Once more, she rejected the call after letting it ring a few times.

Almost immediately after, her phone lit up once more with an incoming call. She looked up at the crew surrounding her with a playful smile and hovered her thumb over the answer button. “I think I’ll take the call now.”

With a swipe from her thumb, she let the call go through. She was getting curious to see if she’d be able to tell who her chosen partner was from his voice. “Hello?”

“Finally.” She heard a short grumble in Japanese. Rukia resisted smiling—it seemed that they were able to cast her first choice after all.

“This is—uh, this is your partner from the show,” the deep voice on the other line began awkwardly. “I was calling to give you a meeting location and a time.”

“You’re quick and to the point,” Rukia replied teasingly. “I’m doing fine, thank you. How are you doing?”

There was a deep sigh and a moment of silence before he responded. “I’m sorry—I hope you’re doing well. I hoped you would be alright to meet at Seoul Plaza tonight at 7PM?”

She raised her eyebrows at the mention of Seoul Plaza.  “What are we going to be doing?” Rukia asked curiously.

“You’ll find out tonight. Dress warmly—and I hope you’re not as bad at telling the time as you are at answering phone calls.” Click.

Rukia scoffed. “He hung up on me.” She had assumed right. He definitely had a temper. She glanced back down at her phone and noticed it was only 10 AM. She had several hours to prepare.

Perhaps she had riled him up a bit too much and should make some kind of peace offering.

She was no expert in the kitchen, so cooking and baking were out of the question.

She was, however, rather great at drawing;, she made sure to include a drawing in her monthly letters to her Nii-sama and he told her she’d improved quite a lot. The other members of LUNA also complimented her drawings when she showed them her sketchbook.

The petite, raven-haired vocalist stood from her spot and dashed to get her sketchbook.

* * *

 

_WEEK 1 – First Date_

 It was a few minutes before their scheduled first meeting and Ichigo stood at the entrance of the large skating rink that took up a majority of Seoul Plaza. The bitter winds nipped at his face as he waited for his “future bride” to show up.

Several cameras and plenty more staff than earlier that day surrounded him, he shifted awkwardly in attempts to ignore curious eyes from passersby and skaters alike. He also felt incredibly silly; one of the producers had forced him to wear a hat to cover his hair “because it would make him too recognizable”, large sunglasses despite it being night time, and a black scarf that completely covered his face.

All in all, Ichigo felt ridiculous but that came as no surprise as he felt that the entire situation he was stuck in was completely that.

He scanned the crowds of people, keeping them peeled for someone wearing a matching hat, sunglasses, and a white scarf, as the mission card he had received upon his arrival had told him to do.

Another few moments of people watching and his eyes finally caught sight of a head in a hat similar to his own bobbing, the approaching small figure attempting to weave in and out between the crowds of people much taller than them.

Was that her?

Ichigo stood straighter and tried to ignore the sudden bout of nerves that overcame him when he noticed one of the many cameras begin to shift, the staff also having caught sight of the approaching figure.

The figure’s direction became more certain the closer they came, and Ichigo was now 100% certain that this was his wife. The hat she was wearing was identical to his, a white scarf hid practically half her face, and a pair of sunglasses hid the other half.

With a better view of his wife-to-be, he was indeed able to confirm that she was very tiny, her body engulfed by a long, lavender winter coat, and her hands hidden by woolen mittens. Ichigo could see the curled ends of raven colored hair brushing her shoulders.

“Hello,” her voice was muffled but Ichigo could tell it was a hint amused. She bowed respectfully at the cameras and staff before turning back to him and offering a small mitten-covered hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Ichigo lightly grabbed at her hand and stiffly bowed, mumbling, “nice to meet you.” She laughed quietly at his awkwardness.

“What an interesting choice for our first meeting,” She continued smoothly, transitioning from Korean into Japanese.

Ichigo’s eyes widened in response to the sudden change of language, “you can speak Japanese? Wait how did you know…?”

“Shall we remove all this? The scarf is kind of suffocating and as great as I look in these sunglasses, I kind of feel weird wearing them at night.” Rukia ignored his question, as she reached for the scarf around her neck.

Ichigo froze momentarily as he watched her unravel the scarf. She wrapped it around her arms and looked up at him expectantly, her hands suspended on her sunglasses.

“Aren’t we supposed to be doing this at the same time?”

“Er…yeah, sorry.” Ichigo quickly ripped off the scarf and hesitantly reached for the sunglasses. Now that the scarf was no longer covering half her face, Ichigo was able to see a smirk grace her face.

“On the count of three?” She asked, her hands still hovering over her sunglasses.

Ichigo nodded in confirmation.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three!”

They both ripped off the sunglasses, her a bit clumsily due to her mittens and Ichigo’s breath caught in his throat.

Violet irises met amber ones and Ichigo could see mirth dancing within them. Now that her face was completely exposed, realization dawned on him.

“Kurosaki Ichigo, it’s very nice to meet you in person.”  Rukia kept smirking as she smoothly slid the sunglasses into her coat pocket.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked as she wrapped the scarf back around her neck, less tightly than before.

Without a doubt, Ichigo recognized the small woman in front of him. His younger sister Yuzu was a fan of Kuchiki Rukia and of the group she was a part of. She also had an immense fan base in Japan and although she was not as active as an entertainer over there as she was in South Korea, it was impossible not to recognize who she was.

“You’re Kuchiki Rukia,” he replied right away. “Do you know me?” Rukia snorted at his question.

“Of course I know you,” she stepped away from him and gestured towards the skating rink ahead of them. “Now aren’t we here to skate? What are we waiting for?”

“Oh—yeah,” Ichigo had forgotten for a moment where they were standing. Rukia shifted closer to him to get into line for renting out skates. Ichigo noticed that she hardly reached his shoulder

“I see you were able to make it in time.” Ichigo brought up nonchalantly. Rukia narrowed her eyes at him.

“If there’s one thing I am—it’s most definitely punctual.” She crossed her arms across her chest.

“Well, I just figured you may have trouble with getting to places on time considering you’re not very good at answering phone calls.”

Rukia scoffed. “I’m very good at answering phone calls if they’re from people I want to speak with.”

Ichigo’s eyebrows shot upward and scowled at her. Not even ten minutes together and she was already irritating him. _So she hadn’t been answering on purpose_.

Ichigo was about to retort when the woman renting out skates interrupted him; “Good evening, what size?”

A few minutes later, the new couple found themselves once more at the entrance of the rink. Ichigo was lacing up his skates and glanced up to see that Rukia had already finished putting hers on. “Have you ever been ice skating?”

She looked down upon hearing his question and shook her head. “Nope, never.”

At her response, Ichigo cursed himself internally. He hadn’t thought that perhaps she might not know how to skate.

Together, the two of them carefully approached the ice. “Just step on to it carefully. Here you can hold on to…” He let himself trail off, stunned and hand suspended midair, as he watched the raven-haired vocalist glide gracefully past him.

“Aren’t you coming, Kurosaki?” She grinned at him expectantly, before spinning around skillfully to join the other evening skaters.

Ichigo let out a sigh of aggravation, determined to catch up.

* * *

 

After an hour of Rukia outskating Ichigo, and her laughing at his irritation, the couple found themselves sitting in a nearly empty café. They sipped their teas in silence, a large slice of cake set in between both of them. The only sound was the quiet chatter of the few patrons surrounding them and the soothing Christmas music playing over the speakers.

Rukia lifted her gaze from her steaming cup to observe the orange haired musician in front of her. He didn’t seem like much of a talker, but he had definitely been _too quiet_ since they left the rink. His lips were turned downward into a slight scowl.

“Are you sulking?” Rukia asked. Ichigo looked up, startled out of his thoughts and scoffed.

“I am _not_ sulking.”

“You are so sulking! Is it because I’m a better skater than you?”

“You told me you’ve _never_ skated before!” Rukia snorted at his aggravation and took another sip of her tea. “Eh, it was a little white lie. I wanted to surprise you.”

“You also admitted to not answering my phone calls on purpose.”

“I wanted mess with you a little,” Rukia teased back. Ichigo gave her a blank look and she sighed a little.

“Okay, okay, so maybe I messed with you a little too much today,” Rukia put her mug down and turned around to reach inside her coat’s pocket. She pulled out a large pink envelope and offered it to him with a small smile. “This is my peace offering. I hope you like it.”

Ichigo raised an eyebrow and cautiously took the envelope from her hands. He carefully and slowly opened the envelope, trying to ignore the way her eyes lit up and her little wiggle of anticipation as he pulled out the card from the envelope.

The front of the card only had: _To my ‘future husband’_ written on it. He opened the card and nearly choked on his spit at what was inside.

The inside of the card was decorated with what seemed to be poorly drawn… _bunnies_? He assumed that these bunnies were supposed to be them as one of them had a mop of orange hair and the other shoulder length black hair. The bunnies were drawn in what seemed to be wedding attire; bunny Ichigo wearing a black tuxedo and bunny Rukia a wedding dress.

She had written underneath the drawing; _I look forward to the married life_!

“What do you think?” Rukia looked up at him with a child-like enthusiasm, seemingly anticipating his reaction. “Aren’t they cute?”

“I wouldn’t quite call them cute,” Ichigo said, with a snicker. Rukia narrowed her eyes and frowned at him, crossing her arms across her chest.

“So what would you say they are then?” She challenged, her gaze was piercing. Ichigo leveled his own stare at her and smirked.

“They’re hideous.”

Rukia’s mouth dropped open and she let out a huff. “Excuse me?” Ichigo sniggered at her reaction. “I said they were hideous.”

Rukia continued to glare at him but Ichigo’s merriment at her anger was short lived. He groaned in pain when he felt a sharp kick to his shin. Ichigo whipped his head up to glare at the petite woman sat in front of him.

“What the hell, Rukia?”

“You’ve obviously got no taste in art. And it’s _Kuchiki-san to you_.”

“If anyone’s got no taste in art it’s _you_.” he retorted with a scowl. “You should stick to singing and dancing because drawing is definitely not your thing.”

“You are so lucky we’re sitting in a middle of a café, Kurosaki.” Rukia deadpanned. She let out a breath in an attempt to compose herself. “I can’t believe I’m stuck with you for the next few months.”

“ _I_ can’t believe I’m stuck with you for the next few months. If I’d of known you’d turn out to be a lying, violent, midget who doesn’t answer phone calls on purpose...” he muttered to himself, ignoring Rukia’s protesting.

“Besides,” Ichigo continued, “you obviously drew this before meeting me.” He lifted the card and pointed at the bunny that was obviously drawn to be him. “You _knew_ I’d be your partner. How?”

Rukia wiped her face of all expression and shrugged at him, picking up her mug of now cold tea to take a sip. “I’m not obliged to share anything with you.”

“You were probably tipped off. That’s—that’s _cheating_.”

“It isn’t cheating, you fool. This isn’t a board game.”

“I’ve known you no more than two hours and you’re already the most infuriating person I’ve ever met.” Ichigo groaned and resisted dropping his head on the table.

Rukia snorted and slid the plate of cake closer to her, finally taking a bite. “Just for that I’m not sharing this with you.”

That of course, led to more bickering. The pair was completely immersed in their argument, completely unaware of the exasperated looks most of the staff were exchanging with one another.

One of the baristas stood by the table with a black, velvet box and red envelope in her hand, wary of approaching the bickering couple. She turned and gave the camera crew a look that said, _Are you sure it’s okay for me to be interrupting this?_

It was needless to say that the looks she received in return were pleading.

With a nervous sigh, the barista approached the musicians. “Excuse me.” her voice was bashful but firm. “I’ve come to give this to you.” She bowed respectfully as she placed the items on the table and then shuffling away.

Both Ichigo and Rukia reached for the items at the same time, the petite vocalist beating him to it. She grinned at his scowl and opened the envelope first. She cleared her throat and read aloud the mission card:

**TO: Kurosaki Ichigo ♥ Kuchiki Rukia**

**In that box you will find your wedding bands. Exchange them as a sign of your love and union.**

 “Do we really have to?” Rukia turned to the camera crew. “Is it not too late to change partners?”

“Oi! It’s not like I particularly want to be stuck with you either.” Ichigo reached across the table and snatched the box from her hands. He stood from his seat and made his way over to her. The orange haired singer opened the box and pulled out the smaller of the two rings. “Give me your hand.”

Rukia wrinkled her nose at him and held her hand out to him. He slid the ring on rather roughly, shoving the box in her hands and held his hand out expectantly.

“Much romantic, oh, I’m swooning,” Rukia mocked as she slid his ring onto his finger.

“Shut up.” Ichigo rolled his eyes. Rukia stood from her chair and reached for her coat, stepping around him.

“This has been the worst first date I’ve ever been on and I can’t believe I can’t just pretend it didn’t happen and have to be fake married to you for the next who-knows-how-many months.” she told him as she put on her coat.

Ichigo followed her lead, putting on his own jacket. “The feeling is mutual, believe me.”

“I want my card back, by the way.” Rukia held out her hand expectantly. Ichigo’s eyes bulged in surprise. “How are you going to ask me to return your so called peace offering?”

“You called my bunnies ugly, therefore I’m rescinding my offer for peace. I also do not share my artwork with those that do not know how to appreciate it.” Rukia pursed her lips, waving her hand at him.

Ichigo stood silent for a moment before shoving the card messily into his coat pocket and rushing past her. He hastily bowed at the staff members as he ducked out of the coffee shop, shouting a quick, “Thank you for your hard work!”

Rukia was momentarily stunned before realization dawned on her. “That _child._ ” She fought the urge to chase after him and instead bowed at the staff. “I apologize for his rude behavior. Thank you for your hard work.”

Not long after, the shooting for their first segment finally wrapped up. As the staff members prepared to load their vans with their filming equipment, the producer in charge couldn’t help but think to herself that perhaps this had to be the worst pair-up in _We Got Married_ history.

She could only hope they didn’t kill each other and the show’s ratings.

* * *

 

_Location: We Got Married Interview Room_

“Congratulations. As of this week, you have officially met your wife. What do you think of your partner?”

Ichigo looked over at the producer that asked the question and leaned back against his chair. He kept his expression neutral as he answered the question: “She’s tiny, full of anger, and her drawings suck.”

His response earned some chortles from surrounding staff members.

“If you had the opportunity, would you pick another wife?”

“Absolutely.”

An hour and a half later, Rukia found herself sitting in the same seat. She smiled politely at the producers surrounding her.

“Rukia, earlier this week you finally had the opportunity to meet your new husband. What do you think about him?”

Rukia did not hesitate to give her response. “I’m not very impressed. He’s got no manners and he does not know how to appreciate good art when he sees it.”

“Unknown to many of our viewers, you had the opportunity to share with us who you would be interested in being paired up with. Interestingly, Ichigo was your top choice. Now that you’ve met him, would you change your choice, if given the opportunity?”

Rukia raised an eyebrow. “Why? Is that allowed?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading the first chapter!! i hope you all enjoyed it and stick around to read the rest. you guys can find me on tumblr: @rvkiakuchiki


	2. weeks 2-3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In where Ichigo and Rukia get married.

_WEEK 3 – Moving In & Wedding Planning_

Rukia was sitting in the passenger seat of Rangiku’s car, on her way to meet up with her “husband” at a local furniture store to go shopping for some needed pieces of furniture they were unable to bring from their own homes. Today, they would be moving into their new apartment and Rukia was not necessarily looking forward to it.

If their first few interactions were anything to go by, he was not going to be an easy person to spend time with. Rukia wondered how well being pretend spouses who will have to spend large amounts of time in a new space would go if to his stubborn personality and grumpy attitude was anything to go by. She bit back a sigh at the thought. 

Rukia would also miss her place and she needed to wait at least another two weeks before bringing Chappy, her pet rabbit with her. She would miss him too, but she trusted Rangiku to take good care of him in the mean time.

It had been two weeks since they had officially met, and the week prior they had completed a mission to receive the keys to their new apartment. With the occasional argument here and there (he’d called her a _midget_ and she was not having that), Rukia was surprised to learn that they worked well together. Although he didn’t seem the type, Ichigo could be focused when he wanted to. She had been grateful that they easily completed the assignment and were able to retrieve the keys.

“This is as far as I’m taking you—the store is a block away. The traffic around here is insane.” Rangiku patted Rukia’s shoulder. “Please refrain from any more arguing. I’m sure at this rate, the producers are a step away from making your next mission marriage counseling and the wedding hasn’t even happened.”

“I’ll try my best.” Rukia reached for her bag and gave her friend and manager a quick smile. “Drive safely. And please make sure Chappy’s properly fed. And send some pict—”

Rangiku waved her off with a grin. “Yeah, yeah. Chappy will be fine and I’ll send you some pictures so you can rest assured. Now get out of my car.”

“Thank you, Matsumoto.”

Nearly an hour later, Rukia found herself walking alongside her new husband, leaning against a cart full of household items, list in hand. They’d gotten almost everything—kitchen utensils and some decorative items.

They were now on the hunt for a dining set and, as usual, they couldn’t agree on anything.

“I don’t like it.”

Ichigo felt his eye twitch in irritation, trying to remind himself that there was a camera crew surrounding him, filming every one of their movements. He had to keep his annoyance at the petite singer under control.

The orange haired lead vocalist crossed his arms and gave her a blank look, “You’ve said that about the last five dining sets we’ve looked at. You do realize we’ve got a budget to stick to, right?”

Rukia scanned the other dining room displays, a finger to her chin. “Just because we’re on a budget doesn’t mean we’ve got to settle for a dining set that doesn’t go well with the apartment…” she trailed off before excitedly grasping her pseudo-fiancé’s arm and pointing at a four-piece, wood and metal dining set. “How about this one?”

Ichigo’s gaze followed hers and landed on the set she was pointing at. It was surprisingly modest dining set—modest in comparison to the six-piece, chestnut, and incredibly expensive dining set that had first caught her eye. “What do you think, then, Ttal-gi?”

Said Strawberry ignored the “affectionate” nickname she had taken to calling him since their mission the week before in order to get a rise of him. He had been confused at first, not recognizing the word. She had smirked at him, refusing to tell him what it meant.

He had to resort to asking one of the staff, who had told him it was strawberry in Korean, much to his irritation. He couldn’t get _too_ angry though, considering he had called her a midget first.

“Not bad, _midget_ ,” He smirked at Rukia’s narrowed eyes. “I think this is the one.”

The couple turned to the waiting female employee, who had been patiently standing through the last fifteen minutes of the two entertainers arguing over a dining set. Rukia smiled politely at her, “I’m sorry for the wait. We’ll take this one.”

The production staff exchanged relieved looks. It wasn’t very often they had the couples on their show argue as much as these two did. The last three weeks had been rather exhausting.

Ichigo rolled his shoulders and looked down at Rukia who was concentrating on the list they had come up with before going shopping. “So what’s next on the list?”

“Bed sheets,” she replied simply and looked up at him with a smirk. “I’ve actually had my eye on some since we arrived.”

The dark haired girl walked towards the aisle where the store kept the bed sheets, Ichigo trailing behind her, his eyebrows raised curiously. He was suddenly assaulted by lots of pink and frills and his gaze jumped to a grinning Rukia.

“What…?”

Rukia bent down and did her best to lift the large, packaged bed set that she wanted. It hadn’t been that long but in the time that he had known her, one of the things that Ichigo had learned about his partner was her love for rabbits; a popular cartoon rabbit named Chappy, in particular.

Ichigo immediately scowled upon seeing the familiar white bunny that decorated a good majority of the female idol’s belongings. “No.”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I said we are.”

One of the members of the production staff turned to her co-worker and whispered with exasperation, “do they not get tired of arguing?”

* * *

 

Rukia snickered to herself at Ichigo’s pout as she closed the door to their new apartment behind her. He had been in _quite_ the mood since they left the store, irritated that Rukia had managed to argue her way into bringing along the Chappy bed sheets.

It had taken a while, but Ichigo and Rukia had finally made it to their new apartment with their purchases in tow. Despite being aware that there were a good number of hidden cameras within their apartment, it was nice to finally escape the camera crew–the number of staff constantly surrounding them was sometimes overwhelming.

Their new place wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either, although, it seemed smaller with the number of boxes and their suitcases strewn around.

The disgruntled duo had a long day ahead of them.

“Furniture building first, then?” Ichigo asked as he surveyed the amount of work they would have to get done before their couch was to be delivered the next day. Rukia nodded at him and reached for the ever-faithful hair tie on her wrist, pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail, several wisps of hair flying out.

She put her hands on hips, determination on her face. “Let’s get to work, then. Why don’t you build the dining room table and I can build the chairs? We can build the coffee table later.”

Immediately the two set to work, drowning in a sea of ripped boxes, plastic wraps, and instruction manuals.

A few minutes of companionable silence passed, with Ichigo’s occasional muttering of frustration breaking the quiet. Rukia had been doing a good job of building the first chair when she heard an odd cracking sound coming from Ichigo’s end.

“What’s that noise?” She turned to look at him furrowing her eyebrows. She was pretty certain that was not a good sound.

Ichigo wiped at his forehead and grunted as he tightened a screw on the table with a wrench, which resulted in the sound again. “It’s nothing—it’s the sound of the screws tightening.”

She opened her mouth to bring up that she was pretty sure that was not the sound of tightened screws but Rukia was already tired and they had barely gotten started—she wanted to avoid another argument, if possible. She blew her bangs out of her face and turned back to her work. “If you say so, Kurosaki.”

Another 30 minutes flew by before Ichigo broke the silence. “I’m done with the table, I can help you with the last chair.”

Rukia put a hand on the leg of the third chair she had just finished putting together and gave it a pull to insure its sturdiness. “It’s fine. I’m getting kind of hungry. Do you want to order in?”

Ichigo, who had been so focused on getting things done, hadn’t noticed the gnawing feeling in his stomach until Rukia had pointed out her own hunger. He placed a hand over his stomach and nodded. “I can go for some food. I’ll place an order. Any requests?”

“I’m good with anything.” Rukia replied distracted. “Why don’t you just get started on the coffee table after calling in the order? I can help you move the dining table when I’m done with the chairs.”

“Sure thing.”

As Rukia worked on the final of the four chairs, she couldn’t help but take notice that this was not only the longest time she’d spent alone with Ichigo but also that they hadn’t argued once.

Maybe he wouldn’t be _too_ bad to have around.

* * *

 

“I’m finished with the chair, Ttal-gi.” Rukia announced, standing from her spot on the floor and stretching her arms above her head. “Let’s position the dining set before we continue.”

Ichigo stood from his crouched position and made his way over to where he had left the table, legs sticking up. Rukia was already standing across from him, her hands at the ready.

“Now!”

Together, the two of them lifted the table and with a bit of a struggle, flipped it over. Rukia’s eyes immediately fell on the surface of the table and her eyes widened to see four holes cracked on to the surface on the corners in where the table legs were located.

“You fool! I knew that you had to be doing something wrong,” She traced over the cracked hole closest to her.

Ichigo tried to ignore the flushing of his cheeks at the embarrassment of his mishap and put on his best scowl. “I tightened the legs on like I was supposed to. It’s not my fault you picked a cheap set that breaks easily.”

Rukia huffed and glowered at him. _Infuriating_. “Are you serious? Weren’t you the one who said all my previous selections were—” She narrowed her eyes, put on her best Ichigo-like scowl, and cleared her throat, saying in her best Ichigo-like voice: “‘Too pricey, midget. We have to stay within our budget, midget.’”

Ichigo narrowed his eyes at her in irritation. Despite it hurting very much to admit it, she had a point. “Whatever.” The orange-haired singer ran a hand through his hair and turned away. “Let’s just finish building this coffee table while we wait for the food to come.”

The petite singer raised an eyebrow, taken aback that he gave up the argument quite easily. “Huh.”

As she made her way over to where he was crouched once more, she noticed he had a slight pout and his eyebrows were furrowed. Rukia bit back a snort. She figured his pride was a little wounded. She felt kind of bad, to be honest, and bit back a teasing remark out of pity.

Once they had the legs attached, Ichigo cracked his knuckles. “I can do the rest, the only thing that’s left is putting the glass on top.”

“Are you sure you can handle it? We don’t need a broken coffee table, as well.” Rukia’s violet eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Shut it, Rukia.” Ichigo’s ears had reddened slightly at her jab. “Just go get the rug so we can set the coffee table over it.”

Rukia let out a small laugh but did as she was asked. Some minutes later and the two of them had managed to roll out their new rug, position the coffee table, and successfully complete their dining set not taking into account the holes.

Looking around at their completed work and thinking how much of a struggle building everything was, Rukia was relieved that some pieces were from their own homes, such as the fridge and desk from her apartment and some bookshelves from Ichigo’s place.

Their bed had been a donation from the very kind producers of the show. Rukia was somewhat lamenting their lack of a television but it would have been too much of a hassle to bring the one from her place.

“I’m gonna go bring these out.” Ichigo lifted some of the boxes that they had torn through during their furniture building. Rukia noticed he was still sulky at his mistake from the frown on his face and his lack of enthusiasm in her teasing earlier.

“Alright.” Rukia watched as he walked out of the apartment, boxes in hand. She waited until the door was closed before scurrying over to one of her boxes. She rummaged through her many boxes of sketchbooks, drawing and coloring supplies before finding the plastic baggy she was looking for.

They were her treasured Chappy decals—she hadn’t used them on anything yet because she couldn’t bring herself to, as she knew that by using them once, she would never be able to use them anymore.

The Strawberry should be grateful for what she was doing for him, Rukia thought to herself as she walked to the table.

She gave one last look at the door and nodded to herself. He would be a while with the boxes as there were strict rules for trash. With utmost care, the tiny singer peeled the first decal and placed it over the first cracked hole.

That would cover it—and hopefully be enough to help ease his wounded pride every time he so much as glanced at the table. There was still a visible bump but for the most part, it was rather unnoticeable. And the table was definitely cuter.

When Ichigo walked back into the apartment, food in hand (he had coincidentally run into the delivery man outside), he hadn’t expected to find the dining room table adorned with his wife’s favorite cartoon bunny.

Rukia had been gazing at him proudly, her chest puffed out and a smile on her face, most likely expecting a positive reaction from him.

“Rukia, _why_?” The orange haired singer placed the bag of food on the table, his face exasperated. Rukia’s smile disappeared and a frown took its place instead. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at Ichigo with aggravation.

“I was trying to be nice. I wasted my Chappy decals to cover the holes so you wouldn’t have to look at them every meal and feel like a failure.”

Ichigo ignored that jab about being a failure and frowned distastefully at the decal nearest to him. How Rukia found this bunny adorable was beyond him. “I think I would have preferred the holes.”

Rukia rolled her eyes and picked at the decal closest to her. “Whatever. Last time I try to do something nice for you.” She was somewhat disappointed with his reaction, but she wasn’t so surprised.

Ichigo felt an odd tug at his chest when he looked up to see Rukia; she had turned away from him and was now looking for eating utensils in one of the boxes by the counter. Her shoulders were slightly slouched as she carefully removed the plates from the box. She was obviously a bit disheartened by his reaction.

“Oi,” Rukia turned to face him and raised an eyebrow at him. Ichigo cleared his throat and scratched at his head. “It’s not so bad, y’know.”

Rukia gave him a puzzled look. “What’s not so bad?” Ichigo sighed internally. Of course she would make him say it.

He looked around the room—at anything but her—as he signaled towards the table with his chin. “The bunny stickers. They’re not so bad.”

He didn’t want to have to say that but the smile she gave him in return was definitely worth it.

“Let’s eat, Ttal-gi.”

* * *

 

The two of them had enjoyed their meal with a surprisingly civil conversation. Ichigo had learned that Rukia had an older sister, Hisana, and a brother-in-law, Byakuya, who were similar to parents. They tended to travel a lot due to business, but she tried to see them as often as possible. She had also told him how she had packed her bags and made her way to South Korea after being scouted on the subway at the age of 15.

Rukia laughed as she remembered her Nii-sama’s reaction to her desire to leave home to pursue a career as an idol in another country. He had not been pleased, Rukia had told him, but with a bit of nudging from Hisana, she had been able to convince him.

He had also told her about his family back home. About his little sisters, Karin and Yuzu and how he was proud of them, and about his crazy old man who ran a clinic. He hadn’t mentioned his mother and it seemed as if she sensed he didn’t want to talk about it. Ichigo was grateful Rukia didn’t ask about her.

The new “couple” now stood side by side, washing dishes. Rukia handed him the final plate to dry.

“So, are you doing okay?”

Ichigo had frozen and nearly dropped the plate she had just handed him, before continuing.

“What do you mean?”

Rukia turned the faucet off and reached for a paper towel to dry her hands with. She gave Ichigo a small smile and shrugged. “I was just wondering how you were doing with all this. I know it can be a bit overwhelming with the cameras, the crowds of staff following you everywhere, and you know, being fake married to an angry midget who can’t draw.”

Ichigo let out a snort and gave her a small smile in return. “I’m okay. I’m managing.”

Rukia nodded at him. “Good to know.”

“And you know—you’re not so bad.” The orange haired singer set the now dry plate on the counter and leaned back against it. “For an angry midget who can’t draw.”

Rukia let out a cackle. “Back at you, Kurosaki.”

* * *

The next day, Ichigo found himself rubbing at his aching lower back as he _once again_ changed the position of the newly arrived couch because of Rukia’s insistence. Ichigo had spent most of that morning in a foul mood for a number of reasons.

The first was due to sleep deprivation. The two of them had gone to bed rather late even though they had to be up at, what Ichigo thought, was an unreasonable hour. They had a busy day ahead of them.

On top of sleep deprivation, what little sleep he did get, was restless because of discomfort. The previous night had resulted in slight awkwardness between the two of them, since there was only one bed.

In order to get past it, Rukia had insisted they rock-paper-scissor for the bed every night as a way to compromise, but Ichigo had refused. He may be many things, but he was still a gentleman. Rukia had attempted to argue with him on it, insisting that it was only fair—that she could handle sleeping on the floor for one night if it came to it, but Ichigo was firm.

Rukia had rolled her eyes, muttered something about him being an idiot, and proceeded to lock herself in the bedroom with a quick, “good night.”

Ichigo had stood alone in the empty living room, realizing there was nothing but a rug for him to sleep on. He let out a tired sigh and knocked on the locked bedroom door. “Rukia, can I at least get the futon?”

There was a beat of silence inside the bedroom before there was some shuffling. The door popped open and he could barely see Rukia’s head over the mountain of sheets. Ichigo took them from her and was about to turn away when she gripped his arm.

“Hold on, take a pillow.” She walked back into the bedroom and tossed him one of the two pillows on the bed, causing him to nearly lose his balance with the addition to the mountain of sheets he was carrying. “Hope the floor isn’t too cold.” She smirked at him and then closed the door in his face.

Not only had the floor been cold, it had been incredibly hard on his back. He was only twenty-five yet his body’s current condition made him feel much older.

“Okay, there. It looks good.” Rukia nodded at him, a smile tugging at her lips. The black-haired vocalist noticed that Ichigo kept rubbing at his lower back and winced. “You, on the other hand, don’t look good. Was the floor too much for you?”

“Just a bit stiff, but I’m fine.” Ichigo threw himself on their new couch with a deep groan, long legs spilling over the armrest, arm set over his eyes. “I’m gonna nap.”

Rukia felt somewhat bad—he had had a rough night, but unfortunately they had a busy day ahead of them. They still needed to finish unpacking and Matsumoto had texted her earlier with a warning that the staff and camera crew would be making an appearance with a new mission. She’d also let her know that she was working extra hard on finding her a wedding dress for a wedding they hadn’t even planned yet.

In addition to having to film and unpack, she needed to get herself ready, since she had a scheduled appearance with her group later that evening.

Rukia gave his head a soft pat as she walked past him, letting her fingers linger over the soft, orange strands of his hair for a moment. “Rest up a bit. I can handle unpacking some of the stuff while we wait for the filming crew.”

Ichigo was already beginning to nod off and slurred a sleepy, “Thanks.”

At least two hours of nothing but the sound of Ichigo’s light snoring passed as Rukia attempted to put everything in its place without waking him up before the noisy chiming of their doorbell disturbed the peace.

Rukia glanced at Ichigo and saw that he was slowly coming to. He sat up and blinked his golden eyes in an attempt to fight off the bleariness.

“The staff must be here—I’ll quickly buzz them in.” Ichigo nodded in acknowledgement and glanced around the living room, surprised to see that the small singer had gotten quite a lot done.

The shelves were full of their belongings and organized, the desk in the corner decorated with an empty picture frame Rukia had insisted on purchasing and a large lamp.

A moment later, the apartment was filled with the sound of loud chatter and thumps as the filming crew made their way in. The producer in charge, whom Ichigo now knew as Choi PD-nim was at the forefront, carrying a cardboard cup holder with coffee from a nearby café. “We’ve brought you coffee.”

Ichigo stood from the couch and smiled politely while bowing respectfully. “Thank you very much. Welcome.”

Rukia was relieved to see that Ichigo seemed to be feeling a bit better. “Please, make yourselves comfortable,” she told the staff in Korean. “Can I offer anyone refreshments? We don’t have many utensils yet but we have bottled water and juice.”

It took some time, but the crew eventually got settled and filming eventually began.

Rukia smiled gratefully at the production crewmember that handed her the red envelope with the couple’s next mission, sitting on the couch of their newly furnished apartment.

“What does it say?” Ichigo asked as he looked over her shoulder. She shot him a quick smirk as her eyes scanned the card once more. “Maybe you should try practicing reading Hangul.” She snorted at his huff of impatience and got up.

“Where are you going?” the orange haired singer asked, watching as she dug through the desk in the corner of their living room where she kept random writing supplies. She dug through a drawer until she emerged with a large notebook. Grabbing a pen and her laptop, she made her way back to her previous seat.

“It’s time to plan our wedding, Ttal-gi.”

His eyes widened slightly. This was admittedly something he’d been dreading the last few weeks.

“How do we even plan this thing?” he asked Rukia who had already begun furiously typing away on her laptop. She hummed for a moment before responding: “well, we’re on a budget again so we’ll definitely have to keep it small.”

Ichigo was relieved to hear that. “So, do you have any ideas about it?”

“Definitely want it to be Chappy-themed,” Rukia teased and laughed inwardly at the look of horror on his face.

“It’s enough with the Chappy memorabilia all over our living room and the stickers you’ve got on the dining room table. I’m honestly getting concerned about this obsession you seem to have with that animated rodent.”

Rukia bristled at his words. “Chappy is not a _rodent_ ,” she growled and lightly kicked at his leg. “Now focus. We’re supposed to be planning our wedding. First things first—where do we get married?”

“A wedding hall?”

Rukia rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you try to be a little creative here? This is our wedding!” Ichigo looked at her incredulously before sighing in resignation.

There was a beat of silence before he broke it again; “a park?”

Rukia gave him a blank stare. “It’s winter and icy out there.”

Ichigo leaned his chin on a palm as he sat forward. “I don’t know, Rukia. It’s not like I plan weddings for a living,” he quipped.

She flicked his arm and huffed at him. “This is a lot harder than I thought.”

Ichigo tapped his index finger against his chin. “What about the ice skating rink where we had our first meeting?”

Rukia looked up at him her eyes lit up, a bright smile on her face. Ichigo felt his face warm slightly and he shifted his gaze away quickly. “ _Yes_ , that would be nice!” Rukia excitedly turned to staff. “Can we do that? Is that allowed?”

“We’ll see what we can do.” Choi PD-nim whispered and gave her the ‘ok’ with her thumb and index finger.

Rukia nodded and turned back to Ichigo. “Okay, how about guests?”

Ichigo cringed at the thought of guests. He had only recently come to Korea for promotions and he didn’t know many people. His band mates were the only ones he could think of inviting but he was hesitant. Tatsuki had been keeping up with the show and was constantly bombarding his cellphone with teasing text messages for having been dragged into a virtual marriage variety show.

He had also gotten random phone calls since he booked the show from Yuzu back in Japan begging him to fly her in for the wedding. He had to keep reminding her that it wasn’t as if this was a real marriage.

Rukia looked up at him expectantly. He only replied with a shrug.

She nodded and began writing diligently in her notebook. “Who are you inviting?” he asked her curiously.

She bit her lip in thought before shrugging. “Most of the members in my group are busy with individual activities just like me. Maybe I’ll just have my manager show up.” She fell silent again as she got lost in thought.

“No guests, so really no need for a reception, right?” Ichigo asked.

Rukia nodded and laughed slightly. “We can always buy a cake on the way back to the apartment and have our own celebration at home.”

“Quite the wedding we’re having.”

“I’ve never been one to like much fuss anyway.” Rukia reassured him. She tapped her pen against the notebook in her lap. “Ah, a theme! How about a winter wedding?” Ichigo hummed and shrugged.

“Sounds good.”

“At least try to sound a little more interested, Kurosaki.” The two of them continued to banter back and forth as they tried to plan their impromptu, completely untraditional, pretend wedding

* * *

 

_WEEK 4 – Wedding Day_

“Let me see him, Matsumoto!” Rukia was currently sitting on the living room rug of her and Ichigo’s new apartment, peering eagerly into her phone’s camera. She was video calling Matsumoto, finally having had some free time to herself in the afternoon, after a busy morning.

The violet-eyed young woman had the apartment to herself until later that evening—Ichigo had activities scheduled all day and wouldn’t be back until then.

“Hold on, hold on,” Matsumoto’s side of the call was loud with the sound of shuffling and she gave Rukia a good view of her floor as she made her way around her apartment. “Here he is. Say hi to your mother, bunny.”

“Chappy! I miss you,” Rukia cooed. The white-haired lop bunny’s ears flickered at the sound of her voice. “He looks like he’s doing well.”

“I told you not to worry. You’ll have him back in two weeks time.” Rukia nodded with a frown.

“So, did you guys decide on a venue for your wedding yet?” Matsumoto had flipped the camera back to her and smirked at Rukia. “I want to know so I make sure that the dress I pick suits the place and theme.”

“We’re having a winter wedding at the ice skating rink where we first met. We’re not inviting anyone. I guess the other skaters will be our guests.” Rukia leaned her head back against the couch’s cushion behind her.

Rangiku let out a horrified gasp. “An ice skating rink wedding with _no_ guests?” Rukia smiled at her phone. “Rukia! What kind of a wedding is that?!”

“Matsumoto, we don’t really want anything big or to go out of our way for anything fancy. It’s more comfortable this way. And besides, it’s not like this is a real wedding.”

“You two are the most unromantic couple on _We Got Married_ , ever.”

Rukia snorted in response. “We’re not necessarily very romantic people,” she closed her violet eyes and yawned. “Thank you for helping me with the dress.”

“Of course, Rukia. Am I at least allowed to be your only guest?”

Rukia popped one eye open and gave her a grin. “Of course.”

“Good. I’ll let you go now, kid. You look like you need some rest. I’m gonna be busy trying to find an appropriate dress for, ugh, ice-skating.”

“Tell Chappy I love him!”

“Will do.” Rangiku rolled her eyes before hanging up.

* * *

“We get married tomorrow,” Rukia teased Ichigo in a singsong voice, sitting across from him at their Chappy covered dining table. Ichigo rolled his eyes and lifted his bowl of ramen to slurp the remaining broth, hiding his face from her.

Rukia smirked at his response and had another bite of her ramen noodles. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of Ichigo’s cellphone ringing. He pulled his phone closer to look at the screen and was greeted with the photo of his younger sister Yuzu; her short sandy hair clipped back and brown eyes twinkling brightly. She had stolen his phone during his last visit back home and set the photo to her contact information.

Ichigo quickly slid his thumb across the screen to answer the call and pressed the phone to his ear, ignoring Rukia’s curious look. “Hey Yuzu.”

“Onii-chan!” Ichigo was sure that Yuzu’s excited greeting could be heard by Rukia, who was now wearing a light smile as she watched him cringe at the volume of his sister’s voice. “I hope I’m not interrupting you.” Yuzu sounded concerned.

“Nah, I was just finishing up dinner. How’s everything back home?”

“Karin’s got a part-time job as an assistant coach for the soccer team at the middle school and dad’s busy with the clinic. What did you have for dinner? I hope it wasn’t something like take-out—your health is important.” Ichigo let a small smile crack his resting scowl at his sister’s mother-henning. “It wasn’t take-out, I promise.”

Rukia raised an eyebrow and whispered, “because ramen is anymore healthy than take-out.” Ichigo threw his used napkin at her. Rukia retaliated with a light kick at his shin.

“Who was that?” Yuzu asked, having heard Rukia’s whisper. She was silent a moment before letting out a thrilled gasp. “Onii-chan, is that Rukia-san? Can I say hi to her?”

Rukia had clearly heard Yuzu’s enthusiastic chatter if the smile on her face was anything to go by. Ichigo though, had no plans to hand over the phone. “No, I think you’re hearing things, Yuzu.”

“Let me say hi to her, Ttal-gi.” Rukia held out her hand for the phone, smile growing even larger at his death glare.

“Yuzu, hold on, I’ll hand the phone over to her.” Ichigo sighed, reluctantly holding his phone out to his pseudo-wife.

Rukia put the phone to her ear and beamed. “Hi, Yuzu-chan!”

Ichigo could hear the muffled yet excited chatter of his sister on the line. He watched as Rukia’s smile grew and she let out a light laugh. “It’s great to finally talk to you, too.”

He got up from the table, bowls in hand, to get started on washing the dishes. Although he had his back turned to her, he kept his ears tuned into Rukia’s side of the conversation.

“Rukia-san, what do you think of my brother?” Yuzu’s soft voice filled Rukia’s ears.

“Your brother?” Rukia lifted her gaze to look at Ichigo whose shoulders had stiffened at her voice. She grinned in amusement and played with the straw in her glass. “He’s infuriating, always moody, and isn’t very good at building dining sets.”

Rukia silently laughed at the sound of a bowl clanging a little too loudly, presumably having been dropped.

“I’ve been watching the show. I’m sorry he can be a bit of a…grump. But he’s not all that bad, I promise!”

Rukia hummed at Yuzu’s words, continuing to watch as Ichigo furiously scrubbed at the same bowl he’d been washing the entire time he’d been at the sink. “No, no, he’s not _all_ that bad.”

* * *

Ichigo blinked, the cold air biting bitterly at his face and making his eyes tear. For the sake of aesthetics and under the insistence of a busty, blonde woman that introduced herself as Matsumoto Rangiku, he was not wearing a coat.

Yoruichi, who had also made an appearance to their faux wedding, had argued with Matsumoto and had convinced her to at least allow Ichigo to wear a scarf.

The skating rink had been decorated and the appearance of the large camera crew had attracted the attention of many onlookers—skaters and passersby alike—and they crowded around the make shift altar the producers had built hours earlier, cellphones at the ready.

At the front of the altar stood one of the panel members for the show who had volunteered to lead the ceremony for them. She’d introduced herself earlier but had scolded Ichigo for being unromantic, although, she had also admitted that he and Rukia were one of the most interesting pairs they had on the show in a long time. She told him she’d be willing to give him some pointers on how to be a little more romantic.

Ichigo had politely declined.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard the crowd surrounding him begin to chatter and cheer. He looked up and his eyes immediately met Rukia’s.

She stood at the entrance of the rink, her cheeks rosy from the cold. Her raven hair was pulled back into a messy French twist, escaping strands curling around her face.

Her wedding dress hugged her figure beautifully; the dress was long-sleeved with a lacy over bodice, its skirt reaching her knees. Her slender shoulders were protected from the cold with a thick wrap. On her feet, instead of heels, were skates. And alongside those, Rukia held a small bouquet of peonies that ranged in various shades of white and pink, tied by a delicate pink ribbon.

Ichigo’s breath caught in his throat.

Rukia looked _beautiful_.

Her pink lips tugged upwards in her usual mirthful smile. She placed a foot on to the ice and as she moved to skate toward him, she gave him a little wink.

Ichigo let a quiet laugh escape him.

With a graceful glide, Rukia stood in front of him. Her eyes hadn’t left his from the moment she entered. “Hello, Ttal-gi,” she whispered with a smirk, as the panelist and their ceremony officiant introduced the event to the large crowd of onlookers.

“Hey, Midget,” Ichigo whispered back, returning her smirk with one of his own.

The two spent the next five minutes throwing glances at each other, biting back laughter.

“And now the couple will exchange their vows.”

* * *

 

It was long after their ceremony had ended and the two had finally arrived at the door to their apartment, completely wiped out.

Ichigo was currently holding onto several bags of gifts that some of the staff had given them and Rukia was balancing a white box of decorated cupcakes that was gifted to them by their officiant.

“Oh! A red envelope.” Rukia crouched to place the box of cupcakes on the floor and lifted herself once more to tear off the envelope that was taped to their door.

Ichigo inched closer to look over her shoulder as she opened the mission card. Rukia felt the warmth of his body and his breath on her neck. 

**TO: Kurosaki Ichigo ♥ Kuchiki Rukia:**

**Congratulations on your wedding. As a gift to you, we have arranged for a weeklong trip to Japan.**

 

“What does it say?”

Rukia smiled up at him as she slid the card back into the red envelope. “We’re going to Japan.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! i hope you all enjoyed it!


	3. weeks 5-8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honeymoons, Christmastime, parenthood, and Rukia's birthday, oh my.

_WEEK 5 – Honeymoon and Christmas_

Rukia had her dainty nose pressed up against the passenger seat’s window, looking at the scenery as she and Ichigo drove towards their next destination: Karakura Town. She was excited to be back in Japan and that she was going to be meeting Ichigo’s family.

Ichigo, on the other hand, had a deeper-than-normal frown on his face, his mood dropping rapidly from the moment he boarded the plane. He, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, had been looking forward to the trip, but once they got on the airplane, they were handed an envelope and informed that his family was contacted in secret and that they would be spending their week with the Kurosakis.

As much as he missed his family, even his father and his crazy antics, he wasn’t sure how he felt about bringing Rukia there. He was concerned about how uncomfortable it might be for her, although she didn’t show any outward apprehension.

Ichigo was especially concerned where his father was involved, as he knew how his father could be _overwhelming_.

Rukia finally looked away from the window and turned to glance at her new ‘husband’. She cleared her throat, “how long has it been since you’ve been back home?”

Ichigo shifted his gaze to throw her a brief look. “It’s been about six months.”

Rukia hummed and looked straight out in front of her. “Aren’t you excited to see everyone?”

“Of course I’m happy to see my family.” Ichigo sighed.

“Then why so grumpy, Kurosaki?”

“It’s just weird. To be going back and bringing back a camera crew and…well you.”

Rukia understood him but pretended to be offended, putting on an angry expression. “So you’re saying you’re being all sulky because you don’t want me to meet your family?”

Ichigo’s eyes widened slightly at her tone. “No—I don’t mind you meeting my family—it’s just that—”

The petite singer snorted. “You don’t want me to be put in an uncomfortable position, I know.” She turned her heard towards him again and smiled softly. “Thank you. But, I’ll be fine. I’m really excited to be meeting your family, actually. I wish I had known ahead though—we’ll be spending Christmas with them and I’m showing up empty-handed.”

“You need to stop doing these things to me.” Ichigo huffed, referring to her feigning anger at him. “And don’t worry about it. They won’t mind—and it’s not like you know them yet.”

“But it’s rude. We should stop by somewhere and at least buy something small. Like a fruit basket or something.”

“I’m telling you it’s not necessary—” Ichigo retorted as he navigated the car into a stop for a red light but was immediately cut off by Rukia.

“And I’m saying that it is. I’ve got manners, you know.”

“Fine.”

* * *

 

Rukia stood at the Kurosaki household’s kitchen sink as she scrubbed another bowl, a serene smile on her face. She and Ichigo had arrived a few hours prior, camera crew in tow. It had been uncomfortable at first, with the large crew attempting to situate themselves around the house but they made it work.

The Kurosakis had been nothing but embracing: Yuzu had greeted her warmly and excitedly; Karin, Yuzu’s fraternal twin had been a bit more reserved but welcoming nonetheless; and Isshin had been incredibly ecstatic, weeping about Ichigo finally bringing home a wife and referring to her as his third daughter from the start.

Rukia hadn’t had the heart to remind him they weren’t actually married.

The small singer had assisted Yuzu in preparing dinner, insisting despite the younger girl’s protests. While the two cooked (more like Yuzu guided her in cooking—Rukia had never claimed to be a great cook), Ichigo and Karin yelled at each other as they became immersed in a fierce video game battle.

The filming crew stuck around for a while, but had left around dinnertime, thanking the family for allowing them to shoot for the show in their home. Yuzu hadn’t let them leave empty-handed, gifting them with cookies she had baked earlier that day.

She was working on the last of the dishes when the oldest Kurosaki walked in, a grin on his bearded face. “My third daughter!”

Rukia turned and beamed at him. “Kurosaki-san, is there something I can do for you?” She reached for the faucet, turning it off and grabbed the towel on the counter to dry her hands.

“Ay, I told you to call me Father.” Rukia nodded at him and bashfully lowered her gaze. “I’ll be sure to do that, next time.”

Isshin winked at her and opened the door to the fridge. “Would you like to help me cut some of the fruit you brought us? Yuzu’s setting up a movie for us to watch—I thought it’d make a good snack.”

“I’d love to.”

* * *

 

Later that night, Rukia found herself in Ichigo’s childhood bedroom, curiously looking around for the first time since her arrival. The rest of the family had gone off to bed—Karin and Yuzu to their room and Isshin to his.

Ichigo was currently downstairs, having told her to wait in his room while he got their luggage. Rukia knew that Ichigo was going to offer her his bed while he slept on the couch but she wouldn’t let him give up his own bed at home.

When she had already seen what there was to see on his desk, she turned and saw the doors to his closet. She puckered her lips in thought. _It wouldn’t hurt to take a peek inside, would it?_

She shot a glance at the door and paused for the sound of approaching footsteps, but hearing nothing, she slid the closet door open slowly. Instead of being met with the sight of something scandalous or embarrassing, she was met with a set of neatly folded futons and sheets.

His closet seemed pretty cozy, actually. She hopped in and leaned back against the wall; making herself comfortable on the futon.

The sound of wheels on the hallway floor and Ichigo’s approaching footsteps caught her attention.

“Oi, Rukia,” Ichigo burst into the room. “Here’s your luggage. You can take the bed—” the orange-haired vocalist paused mid-sentence and gave her blank stare–“what are you doing in my closet?”

Rukia swung her legs back and forth and gave him a satisfied smile. “I think I’m gonna sleep here tonight—it’s not so bad,” she told him as she tucked her legs to fit inside the closet. “I fit quite nicely in here.”

“Rukia, you are not sleeping in my closet.”

“Except, I am. So that you don’t have to sleep on the couch like you do back at the apartment.”

“But it’s a closet—I don’t think it’ll be too comfortable.” Ichigo walked up to her offered his hand. “Come out of there, just take the bed.”

Rukia shoved his hand away and let out an exaggerated yawn. “I’m sleepy.” She laid her head against the futon, now fully lying down. “I don’t think I could move an inch.”

Her hand moved to close the closet door in Ichigo’s face.

“Goodnight, Ttal-gi!” Came her muffled shout.

“Rukia!”

Ichigo breathed out a tired sigh and knocked once at the door. “Will you least take a pillow?”

Rukia slid open the door a crack. “and a blanket, please.”

* * *

 

Ichigo let out a tired groan as he woke to the sound of his dad’s boisterous chattering and Rukia’s familiar laughter traveling through the house. He sat up slowly and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, reaching for his cellphone that lay on the pillow beside him to glance at the time.

_9:15 am._

They had let him sleep in for a while.

He knew he had to get ready for the day soon--the crew would be meeting up with them in a few hours in front of his old high school, as they had asked him to take them on a tour of his hometown for filming. He didn’t mind so much, as they had promised to allow them a break from filming and missions the rest of the week so he could enjoy time with his family without the pressures of cameras and production staff hovering.

Getting out of bed, Ichigo shuffled towards the unpacked suitcases in the corner of his bedroom, reaching for his own in search of something decent to wear.

After making himself presentable, he jogged down the stairs to find Rukia on his couch, a large photo album on her lap, squished between a giggling Yuzu and his father. Karin was watching them with a small smirk on her face, a cup of coffee nestled in her hands, still in her pajamas. It seemed she herself had also just gotten out bed.

“He was so chubby,” Rukia laughed as she ran a finger over a photo of a grinning 5-year-old Ichigo, his face smeared with ice cream.

Ichigo walked over to them and leaned over the back of the couch to glance over Rukia’s shoulder, groaning in displeasure upon realizing that the photo album on her lap was his childhood photo album that his mother had started putting together before she passed away when he was ten.

His dad had done a good job of completing the album after her passing, adding some of his most embarrassing photos the older he got. On the coffee table were stacks of other photo albums, the tiny woman seeming to have already gone through them.

“You were such a cutie, Ichigo. What happened?” Rukia turned to face him with a teasing smirk. Ichigo huffed and leaned away, heading for the kitchen for a much-needed cup of coffee, the sound of his family’s laughter trailing behind him.

* * *

Rukia blew into her carton cup of tea, as she and Ichigo stepped out of his favorite coffee shop in town, holding a bag full of treats for the Kurosakis back home in her other hand. They had spent the day touring around Karakura, camera crew in tow.

Ichigo had showed her his old high school, the park where he used to play soccer with Karin when they were much younger, and had taken her to lunch at the local ramen restaurant he spent a lot of his time in after school with friends. It had been nice to see where Ichigo had grown up, and although he wouldn’t outwardly admit it, she could tell he was happy to be back home.

Tomorrow was Christmas, and Rukia was looking forward to spending it with the family. She had known them for a short amount of time but she already felt a swell of affection at the thought of them.

Taking a careful sip of her tea, she shot an upward glance at Ichigo, as he lead the way to their next and final destination before the end of their day out.

Before the small tour Ichigo had taken her on, they had been handed a red mission envelope, their only mission for the week.

**Take your wife to a special location.**

Ichigo had known immediately where to go and had called the owner of their destination ahead of time, asking if it was all right to drop by. He was a bit concerned about the cameras as the location was rather small, but they had decided to only bring in one of the cameras instead of all three.

They walked in silence for a while before Rukia was disturbed from her thoughts by Ichigo’s sudden halt in walking. “We’re here.” He told her, nodding at a small shop in front of them.

The raven-haired singer looked for a sign with the name of the shop but it seemed not to have one, oddly enough. From the outside, it looked to be quite cozy and through the windows, Rukia could see all types of guitars lining the walls and in rows on the floor.

“A guitar shop?” Rukia asked, curious. Ichigo reached for the door handle and held it open for her to go through.

“A guitar shop,” Ichigo confirmed, a small smile on his face. “This is somewhere special to me.”

Rukia smiled back, and entered the shop slowly. Ichigo and a few members of the show crew followed, those holding equipment mindful of the guitars around them, as there was hardly any room. At the counter was an older woman, who looked up at the sound of the opening door and smiled widely at the view of Ichigo.

The woman dropped what she was doing immediately and let out a huff of laughter. “If it isn’t our little Kurosaki Ichigo.”

Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck bashfully and shrugged awkwardly. “I’m home for the week.”

“I can see that,” The woman tittered and walked towards him, grabbing his hands, giving them a squeeze. “You’ve gotten taller, boy. A lot more handsome, too.”

“Eh,” Ichigo smirked. “I’ve always been handsome.”

 The woman gave him a jokingly scolding look and swatted at his arm lightly before turning to Rukia.

“Is this your wife, Ichigo? She’s lovely.”

“Not really my wif--”

“I am his dear wife,” Rukia interrupted and winked at the orange-haired musician who scoffed in response. Rukia bowed at the older woman as she was approached. “I’m Kuchiki Rukia, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The woman hummed happily and reached for Rukia’s hands, holding them to her gently. “It’s so lovely to meet you. I’m Tanaka Akane.”

Akane gave her hands a gentle squeeze before letting go and stepping back to look at Ichigo. “Keiji’s been waiting for you to arrive,” She ushered them towards a door in the back of the store. “he’s downstairs.”

Ichigo reached for the knob and held it open for Rukia. “After you.”

* * *

Ichigo leaned back against the couch, the corners of his mouth pulled into an amused smile as he watched Karin scream at their father for attempting to cheat at the board game Yuzu had dragged out, having forced everyone to play a couple of rounds it after they had spent an hour messily decorating the small plastic Christmas tree his old man pulled out every year.

After the third round, Rukia had excused herself and made her way up the stairs, assumingly to their bedroom. For a moment, Ichigo balked at his own slip. _His_ bedroom, to _his_ bedroom.

It had been a while since she had gone up, now that he thought about. Maybe he should go up and check on her to ensure she hadn’t turned the room upside down.

When he opened the door to his bedroom, he was confused to see she wasn’t inside. Rukia wasn’t the type to snoop around without permission (unless it was through his own things but he knew she only did that to get a rise out of him), so she couldn’t be in any of the other bedrooms.

He was about to step out of the room to see if she was perhaps in the bathroom when he noticed his bedroom window was as wide as it was able to open, the curtain furiously whipping from the outside breeze.

Ichigo walked to the window and stuck his head out glancing up towards the roof and saw two small boot clad feet swinging. She had figured out how to climb up to the roof--not that that surprised him.

“Rukia?” He called out to her as he stepped on to the sill and hoisted himself up. Rukia jumped slightly at his sudden appearance, seeming to have been deep in thought.

Ichigo noticed that she shivered slightly, the tip of her nose a bright pink, her cheeks rosy from the bitter winds. He crawled toward her and with a groan sat himself next to her, already regretting his decision to climb out of his window without a jacket, the cold engulfing him immediately. “What are you doing up here, midget? It’s cold.”

 Rukia swatted at his arm lightly at his nickname for her before smiling at him. “I like the cold,” She returned her gaze forward, looking at the lit windows of the houses in the distance. “It’s nice up here.”

“And cold.”

Rukia snickered and unwrapped the scarf around her neck turning to bundle it around Ichigo’s. Ichigo cleared his throat awkwardly and attempted to ward off any blushing at Rukia’s sudden proximity and the feeling of her small hands brushing his skin.

“There,” she muttered to herself as she finished wrapping the scarf around him. “You should have known better than to climb up without some kind of jacket, idiot.”

“Why are you lecturing me when you’re the one that decided to come sit on a rooftop in the middle of winter?”

“But I’m not the one complaining about how cold it is.”

Ichigo put a large hand on the top of her head and ruffled her hair with a smirk. “Yeah, yeah.” Rukia protested and slapped at his hand. Ichigo removed his hand and leaned back to look at the sky. “You’re right though--it is nice up here.”

Rukia hummed in response as she attempted to smooth out her hair, tucking strands behind her ears. “I had fun today. It was nice seeing where you grew up and your favorite places. The Tanakas were also very nice. I didn’t know that Keiji-san was the one that taught you to play guitar,” Rukia turned to give him an impish grin. “He gives you a run for your money, though.”

Ichigo let out a chortle and tucked his chin into Rukia’s pink scarf, her floral scent wafting into his nose. “I can’t disagree with that.”

Rukia’s expression softened, her grin fading into a tiny smile. “Thank you for taking me.”

Ichigo swallowed at the sudden lump in his throat, the corners of his eyes crinkling at his retuning smile. “It was nothing. Thanks for coming along, I guess.”

Rukia snorted at his response, her violet eyes twinkling with amusement. “Maybe we should head back inside. I think the cold is getting to you, Kurosaki.”

“I can handle the cold just fine, Kuchiki.” Ichigo retorted, but moved from his position to climb back into his bedroom. Rukia followed and shut the window behind her after she shuffled back into his room.

Rukia slipped off her boots and made her way to what she now referred to as her closet, unbuttoning her coat as she went. Ichigo sat on his bed and watched as she slid the closet door open and jumped up to sit on the futon inside, leaning back onto the wall with closed eyes and tired yet content sigh.

The Tanakas’ guitar shop was indeed a special place to him; it was where his passion for music was born and the couple had always treated him like family. He had enjoyed introducing them to Rukia--it admittedly made him happy to see the people he cared about get along with her.

Despite this, there was another location that had a deeper significance to him. It had been a while since he had gone to visit his mother; he hadn’t thought it was a good idea to bring Rukia along earlier as he hadn’t felt comfortable bringing along camera crews to his mother’s resting place.

He found though, that he wouldn’t mind bringing Rukia along with him to visit his mother. It had only been a few days since Rukia had met his family but he could tell they already loved her and she them. He was sure that had his mother still been around, the tiny singer would have won her over as well. Ichigo couldn’t deny that Rukia had a way of worming her way into one’s heart (except his of course. Although she was _decent_ company, he supposed)--despite how aggravating she could be.

“Oi, midget.”

Rukia looked up questioningly.

“You should head to bed, we’ve got an early morning.”

The petite vocalist furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “We do? Tomorrow’s Christmas though. Aren’t we staying in?”

“We’re going somewhere. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

* * *

“Ichigo, where are we going?” Rukia asked for the third time in the last half hour, her breath slightly hitched from the exertion at their upward trek through a wooded area. She was relieved the snow had been light so far this year or the trek would have perhaps been a bit more difficult.

Ichigo tightened his hold on the large bag he had brought along. “We’re almost there.” He halted as he saw the path to the isolated, yet well kept cemetery that housed his mother’s final resting place.

Rukia came up behind him and froze at the site of graves, looking up at Ichigo. “Ichigo?”

Ichigo looked down at her with a sad smile. “Let’s go.”

He led the way, his legs carrying him to his mother’s plot instinctively, ignoring the familiar throb in chest. Rukia followed cautiously, having grown quiet, unsure of what to say.

They came to a stop in front of a tombstone that read KUROSAKI MASAKI. Rukia’s heart constricted at the sight of the stone. When she had first walked into the Kurosaki home, the first thing that had caught her eye was the giant poster of the woman who looked so much like Ichigo that hung on the family’s living room wall. She had also seen various photos of her with her family before her passing when she looked through the family albums.

From those images alone, Rukia had been able to see not only the beauty that she was but the obvious love she had for her family. There was no doubt in her mind that Masaki had been a good mother and a wonderful person; Rukia would have loved to have gotten the chance to meet her.

Ichigo wordlessly kneeled down and reached into the bag to remove the necessary items to pay his respects. Rukia watched silently as he wiped the snow off the grave, replaced the flowers in her vase, and lit incense sticks.

He clasped his hands together, closing his eyes. After a few moments, Ichigo lifted his head and looked up at Rukia who had been silent this whole time, afraid to interrupt the intimate moment. He beckoned her forward with his hand.

The petite singer moved forward to bow respectfully at the grave and then knelt beside Ichigo.

“Mom, this is Rukia,” Ichigo spoke softly. “I thought it’d only be appropriate to introduce you to my pretend wife.” He snorted at his own words and Rukia smiled a bit at him before lowering her gaze toward the grave.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Kurosaki-san.” Rukia reached for an incense stick, lighting it and placing it on the grave carefully. Not a moment later she clasped her hands and closed her eyes tightly.

_You’ve got a great son and beautiful family, Kurosaki-san. I’m happy to say I’ve met all of Ichigo’s family._

* * *

Christmas dinner with the Kurosaki family had been lively and full of delicious foods; it had no doubt been the happiest celebration she had ever had. Her family wasn’t one for Christmas celebrations and the most she had done was eat cake with some friends.

It had been a pleasant change to sit around and spend time with a family--enjoying each other’s company.

Rukia snuggled into the cozy, hand-knit, lavender sweater that Yuzu had gifted to her earlier, blinking rapidly to fight off sleepiness to no avail; her lids were succumbing to the heaviness.

Isshin had turned in for the night a bit earlier, claiming to be exhausted from overeating his precious daughter’s delicious cooking. The remaining Kurosaki family members and Rukia had gathered around the living room at Yuzu’s insistence on watching a western Christmas film despite her two siblings’ protests.

“You getting tired, midget?” Ichigo leaned in and whispered into Rukia’s ear. She jerked awake at the sound of his voice and fought off a yawn. “No, I’m fine. Now, hush, I’m trying to watch the movie.”

Ichigo shrugged and turned his attention back to the painfully cheesy family movie, once more becoming engrossed. Not much later, he was startled at the feel of warmth on his shoulder.

He looked down to see a crown of raven tresses, Rukia’s head had come to rest on his shoulder; her violet eyes were shut, and her breathing was heavy as she slept away the fatigue of an eventful day.

The orange haired man let out a laugh through his nose and with his other arm, reached for the throw kept on the back of the couch. Ichigo covered the sleeping singer as best as he could with the blanket, being careful not to jostle her too much.

He turned his attention back to the movie, the warmth at his side and lulling rhythm of Rukia’s peaceful breathing bringing about the oddest sensation of comfort…one he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

* * *

_WEEK 7 - Ichigo Becomes a Father:_

It had been two weeks since Ichigo and Rukia had returned to Seoul; they had spent a few more days with Ichigo’s family before having to fly back. Rukia had been disappointed that the visit ended so soon--she had quickly grown incredibly attached to the Kurosakis. They had bid farewells with the promise of keeping in contact and perhaps a visit to Seoul soon.

The two of them had rung in the new year together, despite being on the job; her group and his band had both been invited to perform at one of the several Gayo Daejun concerts held throughout the holiday season and had found each other on stage for the count down.

After that, the two of them had become increasingly busy; Rukia’s group was preparing for a two-day concert event in Seoul in five weeks before launching an Asian dome tour in a few months time. Ichigo on the other hand had gained attention with the airing of the show and along with his band, had been invited to appear as guests on various other shows.

The two only crossed paths very briefly for completing missions and filming. At times they would both be in the apartment after long days of work and they would share late night snacks, complaining to each other about their packed schedules.

Despite not seeing each other often, the two exchanged text messages and silly Snapchats frequently.

It had happened rather quickly and unexpectedly, but Rukia could no longer imagine not having Ichigo around as a presence in her life. They still butted heads and teased each other mercilessly, but they also were able to have conversations, give each other advice, and listen to each other after long days.

If Rukia were being honest with herself, she wouldn’t have imagined that they would have grown as close as they have---especially after the rather rough beginning to their relationship. After all the time spent in the apartment, the many missions that the show put them through, and their recent trip, something had changed between them; Rukia felt that she was getting to know a side of Ichigo that not many got to see.

The petite singer was finally resting at her and Ichigo’s shared apartment, lounging on the couch with a drama playing as background noise, anticipating the arrival of her son.

Matsumoto was finally bringing Chappy to stay with Rukia, the strawberry blonde having decided to wait until Rukia’s schedule slowed down again to bring the floppy-eared creature to the apartment.

Rukia couldn’t wait to surprise Ichigo with the new addition to their family. She snickered to herself, imagining his look of disapproval.

He’d grow to love Chappy though, she was sure. Matsumoto herself wasn’t a huge fan but eventually warmed up enough to pet sit whenever Rukia was busy with domestic schedules.

She was about to turn her attention to the drama playing on their newly brought television (Ichigo had cracked and finally insisted on getting a decent sized one in order to play his video games) when her phone vibrated beside her.

_I’m outside, buzz me in. The cage is too heavy and I’M DYING._

Rukia let out an uncharacteristic squeal of delight, jumping off the couch to the intercom to buzz her manager and friend in, before rushing to the apartment door, and propping it open.

A few minutes later, Rukia could hear the sound of Matsumoto’s heels clicking and her heavy breathing. The singer rushed to her aid, running to grab the cage from her hands.

“Goodness, I think I overfed the beast--he wasn’t this heavy before.” Matsumoto swallowed hard, heading straight to the kitchen for a glass of water. “She’s not even listening to me,” Matsumoto muttered to herself, listening to Rukia’s happy cooing.

After quickly gulping down her water, Matsumoto rearranged her hair and walked back to the living room, finding Rukia sat on the floor, cradling the bunny to her chest. “Well, now that I’ve reunited mother and son, I’m gonna head out.”

The violet-eyed girl looked up in surprise. “Already? You just got here.”

“I’ve got some work to catch up on, Kuchiki. Remember to get some rest. And keep me updated on how the Berry reacts to a sudden child.” Matsumoto smirked at the smaller girl and bent down to stroke the bunny goodbye.

Rukia let out a laugh and smirked back. “I will, I will. I can’t wait.”

* * *

Rukia perked her head at the sound of the front door slamming, having slightly nodded off while she waited for Ichigo to come back to the apartment.

“Midget!” Ichigo called out as he took off his shoes at the entrance. “I picked up some take-out on my way home.”

She stayed in her position on the couch, smiling in amusement as she waited for Ichigo to come into the room and notice the large cage housing the lop-eared bunny.

“Rukia?” Ichigo peered into the living room to find the room darkened, the only light coming from the television, which illuminated just enough for him to see the crown of her head resting on the couch’s armrest. He was about to call out to her a second time when the sound of rustling caught his attention.

He set the bag of take-out on the coffee table and reached to the wall behind him to click the light switch on. His amber eyes immediately traveled to the corner of the room where the rustling came from and caught sight a large cage and the munching rabbit that lay within.

Ichigo froze with wide eyes before letting out a sigh through his nose. “Rukia!” Her tiny head popped up from the back of the couch to look at him with innocent eyes.

“You’ve met your son!”

“My _what_?”

“Your son.” She gave him a cheeky grin as she rushed over the open the cage. She carefully grabbed the rabbit and brought him to her chest. “Isn’t he adorable?”

Ichigo wrinkled his nose. “You did not just refer to that rodent as my son.” Rukia’s grin faded into a glare.

“I thought we already established that rabbits are _not_ rodents, Kurosaki.” She turned her nose upward and gave him the side eye. “He’ll be staying here with us from now on. This is his home now.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Ichigo protested, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No.” Rukia held the bunny up to him. “Come say hi to him.”

Ichigo glared at her for a moment before shuffling closer cautiously. He held his hand out suspended above the bunny’s head, his eying the creature suspiciously. “Hey, he doesn’t bite, does he?”

“Only if he doesn’t like you.” Rukia teased. Ichigo immediately retracted his hand, ignoring Rukia’s cackle.

“I’m kidding, he’s a very mild tempered bunny. He only gives snuggles.”

Ichigo only stared at her, his eyes doubtful. Rukia sighed in response and reached out to grab his larger hand. She slowly brought it down to pet Chappy. “See? You still have your hand.”

Ichigo pulled it away after a quick moment and turned back to the coffee table to pick up the forgotten bag of takeout. “You should wash your hands. Let’s go eat dinner.”

Rukia pouted after him and raised the bunny to look it in the eyes. “Don’t worry, Chappy. He’ll warm up to you eventually.”

The bunny’s ears twitched in acknowledgement.

* * *

Rukia sat across from Ichigo, biting back an amused smile at the sight of his irritated face. He tapped his pencil impatiently as he glanced at the sheet in front of him.

She was currently attempting to tutor the orange haired musician in Korean, at his request, and thus far the first lesson was not going well for him.

He looked up at Rukia with tired eyes and laid his head to rest on the table. “I think I’m done for today.” Rukia nodded understandingly and stood from the table.

“Tomorrow we’ll keep at it,” She walked to the fridge and opened the door, peering in. “Do you want me to make something? I’m getting kind of hungry.”

Ichigo snorted as he sat up. “You can cook?” He had noticed how she had struggled to follow Yuzu’s instructions when helping her cook during their visit to his family home. He was sure that cooking was not something Rukia was good at.

 _Not really._ Rukia answered him mentally. She wouldn’t have minded trying through. She resisted the urge to throw something at him. “Of course I can, fool!” She slammed the fridge door shut and turned to him with her arms crossed. “Last time I offer to make you something.”

She stomped to the cabinets and rummaged around for some ramen; she would only make enough for herself--the Strawberry could starve for all she cared.

“I wouldn’t want to eat your cooking anyway, I’m sure I’d get food poisoning.”

Ichigo found himself dodging a wooden spoon not a moment later and went back to the living room, away from the tiny, angry woman who was in denial about her cooking (and drawing) skills.

He turned his gaze towards Chappy who had been squeaking even louder after Ichigo’s entrance. “Your mother’s a scary one, isn’t she?”

The rabbit only nibbled at some of the fiber twists Rukia had put in earlier that morning in response.

He was about to stand from his position and attempt to convince Rukia to make him his own share of ramen when his phone buzzed. It was from one of the show producers informing him to check their mailbox for a letter addressed to him.

Ichigo stood from his seat and quietly exited the apartment. He greeted a neighbor who had been checking his own mailbox, as he reached for their apartment mailbox. The amber-eyed singer was greeted with the sight of a familiar red envelope.

**In one week’s time, celebrate your wife’s birthday.**

Ichigo balked at the letter. In one week--what day was that? He immediately reached for his cellphone and scrolled through the applications to find his calendar. _January 14 th_.

Tightening his hold on the envelope, Ichigo squinted pensively at the card. He didn’t quite know yet what, but he had some planning to do.

* * *

_WEEK 8, Date January 14 th: Rukia’s Birthday_

“Yuzu, is this much enough?” Ichigo was currently crouched in front of the apartment’s kitchen counter, attempting to listen to Yuzu’s instructions. His younger sister was trying her best to help out her brother but it was proving difficult through a camera.

“Onii-chan, the measurements should be correct if you filled up the measuring cup to where I told you.”

Ichigo stared at her blankly through the screen of his Macbook, which was placed on the counter, surrounded by the mess of bowls and ingredients. He shrugged at her after a moment and tossed the milk into the bowl. He was gonna wing this.

It was gonna be fine.

He glanced at the time displayed on his computer screen and held back a grunt of frustration. He had five hours to get these baked and decorated before he had to go get ready for filming and meet Rukia at a surprise location.

Ichigo had of course planned something nice for them to do for the cameras to film later that day, but he wanted to do something nice for her away from the cameras and the crew (not that they were ever all that far as the apartment was littered with hidden ones).

Ichigo spent the next few minutes attempting to get the batter to the correct consistency and rushed to pour it into the moldings. He set the timer and wiped his brow, leaning against the counter tiredly once the batch of cupcakes was in the oven.

“Do you need me around for when you decorate?” Yuzu’s voice sounded tinny through the speakers.

“I think I’ll manage, Yuzu,” Ichigo leaned down peer into the camera, giving his younger sister a small smile. “Thanks for the help, kid.”

“Any time!” she giggled in response. “I’m gonna hang up then, Onii-chan. I’ll talk to you later. Let me know how Rukia-nee likes the cupcake recipe! And remember to be careful when slicing the strawberries or they won't look like bunny ears!”

The double beeps that came from his computer signaled that Yuzu had cut the connection and the kitchen was immediately silent once more.

With a tired sigh, he reached into the fridge, removing the container of strawberries from the top shelf and immediately got to work.

* * *

Rukia’s cheeks hurt from smiling the whole day. She had woken up right before dawn to get ready for her day, having already received notifications from fans, friends and her group members wishing her a happy birthday.

She had been slightly disappointed to find that her company had scheduled a few appearances for her on her birthday, but she would at least keep busy. At her first appearance early that morning, she was surprised with a thermos of seaweed soup from one of the producers to congratulate her on her birthday and she had been touched. Throughout the day, she was gifted with fruit baskets and similar gifts, and was kept well fed with snacks from those that worked around her.

Rukia was currently sitting in one of the backseats of a van her company provided for transportation, Matsumoto chattering into her Bluetooth about scheduling conflicts she had next week. They were enroute to her next event and Rukia was ready to go. Her glossy, raven hair was curled prettily and rested on her slim shoulders and she was dressed nicely; she had no idea where she was going, only the she would be filming.

Her good mood instantly vanished when her gaze, for the twelfth time throughout the journey once more shifted to her cellphone, lighting up her phone’s screen with the push of the home screen button. As expected, none of the notifications that appeared were from _him_.

Rukia was slightly disgruntled to see that it was late afternoon and a certain Strawberry had yet to send her birthday wishes.

The petite entertainer wrinkled her nose and huffed in irritation.

They were _married_ (okay, fake married, but _still_ ) he should definitely know it was her birthday today.

“Whatever,” she grumbled to herself and crossed her arms, leaning her head to rest on the window and shutting her eyes.

“Rukia-chan, please refrain from leaning your head against the window,” Matsumoto demanded. “We won’t have time to fix your hair on location should you mess it up." 

“My hair will survive.”

She was met with silence but knew that if she opened her eyes she would be facing Matsumoto’s piercing glare via the rearview mirror.

“There’s no time for a nap, anyway. We’re here.” Matsumoto reached over and patted her knee. “Now stop looking so gloomy, it’s your birthday.”

Rukia opened her eyes once more and peered outside of the window. She saw it was a small, pretty, and well-lit restaurant. She raised an eyebrow and opened the van door, hopping down.

Once Rukia made it inside the restaurant, she was greeted with the familiar view of cameras and the faces of some of the _We Got Married_ staff she had been working with the past few months. Her periwinkle eyes widened in pleasant surprise and she gave them all a bright smile.

“Happy Birthday, Rukia.” Her gaze turned to the owner of the voice. Ichigo stood in front of her, his face slightly flushed, one hand ruffling his already messy orange locks. In his other hand he held a small bouquet, extending them towards her. His eyes were fixedly glued to look at something above her, pointedly avoiding her eyes

Rukia noticed how he shifted around nervously and smiled in amusement. The now 26-year-old singer ignored the extended bouquet and grabbed at Ichigo’s tie, pulling him down to her height. She was met with surprised amber eyes. Her smile widened as she reached up to peck him on the cheek.

Rukia let go of his tie and made grab for the flowers. “Thank you, Ichigo.” She walked past him to the only table that was set and turned to look at the stunned man expectantly. “Aren’t we going to eat, Kurosaki?”

* * *

Rukia smiled to herself as her thoughts drifted back to earlier that evening. The restaurant had been great and their meal delicious. The highlight of the evening had been when Ichigo had embarrassed himself after their meal; as they got ready to wrap up filming, one of the producers had asked him if the flowers would be the only thing he would be gifting her.

Ichigo had innocently replied, “I’ve got one more thing, but it’ll be just between the two of us.” It had taken a moment for him to notice the stunned faces of those surrounding them to realize his response had been horribly misconstrued. Rukia had cackled ruthlessly at his mortification.

“I thought you didn’t know it was my birthday today.” She said suddenly, breaking the silence and interrupting Ichigo’s concentration on the program that they had playing on their living room television.

“Hm?” The orange-haired musician reached for the remote to lower the sound to give his pretend wife his undivided attention. “Did you?”

Rukia crossed her arms across her chest, pulling her legs up to the couch, crossing them under her. “Well, you didn’t send a birthday wish all day. So you either didn’t know or you forgot.”

Ichigo glanced at Rukia from the corner of his eye and let a small smirk pull at the corner of his lips. “Did that bother you?”

“No.” _A little._

“Liar.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Ttal-gi.”

Ichigo reached over and flicked her on the forehead, his smirk growing at the sound of her protest. “That reminds me…”

Rukia watched curiously as he stood from his position on the couch and dashed into the kitchen, absentmindedly rubbing the spot he had flicked. She heard some scuffling before he walked back out, a dish in hand. On the plate, he had placed two cupcakes: they were topped with vanilla frosting, two black dots and whiskers drawn on with frosting, two sliced strawberries for bunny ears--the decorations were definitely clumsy but Rukia could clearly see the effort that had been made.

“I uh, I made you these earlier today.” Ichigo tried to shrug nonchalantly but the way the hand that held the plate shook slightly gave him away.

“Bunnies!” Rukia gasped. “Ichigo…”

Rukia could feel her face warm slightly, as she watched Ichigo wait for her reaction to the pastries, her chest tightening with what she could only describe as affection. She could feel her eyes crinkle with the smile that formed on her face.

She reached out and grabbed one, wasting no time in taking a bite. She ignored the frosting she knew had smeared on her nose when she dove into the pastry, humming delightedly at the sweet taste.

“They’re so good,” Rukia moaned around a mouthful. “I didn’t know you could bake!”

Ichigo’s shoulders sagged with relief as he took a seat next to her, grabbing for the second cupcake. He mentally patted himself on the shoulder when he took a bite of it and noticed that Rukia had not been saying it out of courtesy--the cupcakes, despite their messy appearance, tasted great.

“I didn’t know I could either,” he replied truthfully. He looked at Rukia, who was still happily eating away and noticed she still had a dollop of frosting on the tip of her tiny nose. He leaned over to grab some of the napkins he had brought along with him and without warning, gently wiped at her nose.

Rukia regarded him with surprise for a moment before softening her gaze. “Hey, Ichigo?”

He acknowledged her with a distracted hum as set the napkin on the empty dish.

“Thanks for today. I mean it.”

Ichigo turned to look at her. She was smiling bashfully at him, fingers picking at what was left of her treat.

Ichigo’s own lips pulled at the corners, giving Rukia a smile of his own.

“Don’t mention it.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! i hope you all enjoyed it!


	4. weeks 10-17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo spoils his son, Yuzu visits, etc.

_WEEK 10: Ichigo is an indulgent parent_

Rukia was currently crouched in front of Chappy’s cage, observing as the rabbit ate his properly portioned share of morning spinach leaves before she had to head out for a day of rehearsals.

Her brows were furrowed in concern; she wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or if she was in fact correct, but it seemed as if Chappy was a lot rounder than he had been before. She shifted her eyes over to the couch where a sleeping Ichigo lay, and analyzed him calculatingly.

_He had been feeding Chappy correctly while she was out of the apartment, right?_

Rukia stood quietly and ripped the sticky note she had left next to the cage for Ichigo or Matsumoto--whoever was able to stop by and feed Chappy depending on schedules. The note summarized how to feed the lop bunny appropriately to ensure his health.

In red ink she wrote on the bottom of the note: _Please make sure not to overfeed him!_ And drew a happy face.

Sticking the note back in place, Rukia glanced at the watch on her wrist and quietly groaned at the time displayed. She was going to be late at this rate. Whispering a goodbye to her beloved pet, the petite musician rushed out of the door, hoping to make it in time.

* * *

 

Popping off her shoes at the entrance, Rukia attempted to be as quiet as a mouse as she arrived back to the apartment well after midnight, exhausted after a long day of dancing, singing, and memorizing stage cues. She was about to bend down to pull a wayward slipper closer to her when she heard the sound of quiet whispering and the sound of fast gnawing, the latter undeniably being Chappy.

Trailing after the sounds quietly, Rukia let out a gasp of shock when her violet eyes came to rest on a lounging Ichigo who had a munching Chappy resting on his lap. He had a small plate of carrot sticks resting on the other side of the couch, one of his hands holding a half eaten one to the rabbit’s mouth.

“Ichigo!” Rukia’s voice was appalled. “What are you doing?”

The man in question jumped at the sound of her voice, startled at the sudden loudness that filled the previously quiet living room.

Swallowing hard, Ichigo patted the still chewing rabbit and shrugged at his fake wife. “I’m feeding, Chappy?” His statement sounded more like a question.

“You’re the one who’s been overfeeding him!” Rukia accused, her index finger pointing at him.

“He was hungry!” Ichigo defended, hugging the creature to his chest. “He was asking to be fed.”

Rukia scoffed. “You’re spoiling him, Ichigo.” She stomped her way over and took the bunny into her arms. “There needs to be moderation! Didn’t you see the sticky note I left you? We’re going to have to make sure he gets enough exercise.”

“It was only a few carrot sticks, he’ll be fine!”

Rukia glared at him as she made her way over to Chappy’s cage. “Feeding a rabbit too many carrot sticks is like feeding a child too many sweets, Kurosaki.” She gently placed the lop bunny inside and rubbed his head.

Ichigo sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes. “Alright Rukia, alright. I’ll be sure to follow your note from now on.”

Rukia nodded at him. “I appreciate that. I’m going to go to bed now. Goodnight.”

Ichigo watched as she closed the door to the bedroom she had claimed as her own 3 months earlier before crouching down eye level with the rabbit’s cage. “It looks like I’m gonna have to follow your mother’s rules for now, buddy.”

Chappy replied with the twitch of his nose.

“I know, I know. I’ll still try to sneak you a carrot or two,” he whispered.

“No you won’t!” Ichigo jumped at Rukia’s muffled yell and looked at her closed bedroom door with wide eyes.

He stayed silent for a moment and heard the sound of shuffling from behind her door. A second later he caught sight of her head peeking out, eyes hard.

“I mean it, Kurosaki.”

The next morning, Ichigo awoke to a sticky note plastered on his forehead.

_Remember, not to give him extra carrots! I left his leash and harness out for you. Be sure to take him out for a walk if you get the chance!_

It was later that morning when Rukia was briefly distracted from her rehearsing at the sound of her phone chiming with an incoming text message. Unlocking her phone screen, she let out a laugh at what was on her screen.

It was a picture of a disgruntled looking Ichigo sitting on a park bench, a harnessed Chappy on his lap.

_I’m never doing this again, Rukia. I’m getting all these weird looks._

Her fingers quickly typed out a reply: _I’ll come along next time and shield you from the weird looks. ;p_

Halfway across the city, still sitting on the park bench, was one red-faced Kurosaki Ichigo.

* * *

 

_WEEK 12:_

The next four weeks had come and gone rather quickly and it was now February, Valentine’s Day to be exact. Not only was it Valentine’s Day, but it was also the weekend of the highly anticipated two-day concert that Rukia and her group had spent the past weeks rehearsing for.

“You came to see the show?” Rukia’s violet eyes sparked with surprise and excitement as she took in two familiar and beloved faces in the sea of chaos that was backstage. The first of two major shows had finally wrapped up a little over thirty minutes ago but she still sat in her stage outfit, a bit too tired to move.

Ichigo returned her smile, hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. “We wouldn’t have missed it.”

“Did you enjoy the show?”

He wiped the smile from his face and attempted to shrug nonchalantly, faking an unimpressed expression. “It was alright. You did pretty good up there.”

Leaning her cheek onto one hand, Rukia smirked up at him. “Only good?”

“Okay, maybe a little better than good.”

“I’m glad I was able to impress you so much,” Rukia snarked back playfully. She turned her attention to her other guest, giving her a warm smile. “Yuzu, I’m happy to see you could come!”

Kurosaki Yuzu beamed back, the excitement mirroring on her own face. “I’m really happy to be here, Rukia-nee,” she leaned in and whispered loudly. “I can’t believe I’m backstage right now!” The younger Kurosaki had taken the week off from school and had flown in earlier that day, planning to spend the rest of her week in Seoul. Karin unfortunately could not join her sister for the trip as she had an important soccer match coming up and was hesitant to miss a week’s worth of practice.

Rukia had invited the Kurosaki siblings to the show but hadn’t expected them to attend; although the flying time between Japan and South Korea wasn’t long, traveling was still tiring and she assumed Yuzu would want to rest and spend time with her older brother.

The raven-haired singer laughed. “It’s crazy back here, isn’t it?” She was about to open her mouth to speak once more but was interrupted by one of the stylists who hesitantly approached them.

“Miss Kuchiki, we need you to change out of your costume, please.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Rukia apologized to the stylist, standing from her chair. She gave her two guests a sheepish smile. “I’ll be a few minutes and then we can get out of here. Wait here and feel free to grab anything.” She gestured towards a table that had various types of drinks and snacks before rushing after the stylist.

The two siblings were left to their own devices; they silently watched as many of the stage personnel dashed around to organize everything after the 2 and a half hour show.

Yuzu was quiet for a moment before nudging her brother gently in the ribs. She gave him a Karin-like smirk when he looked down at her. “Rukia-nee was super pretty tonight, right?”

Ichigo bit the inside of his mouth and turned away from his sister, refusing to give her an answer. Yuzu giggled and rested her chin on her brother’s shoulder. “You like her, don’t you Onii-chan?”

“Of course I like her, Yuzu. We’re kind of like co-workers,” Ichigo deadpanned, attempting to ignore the sudden heat traveling up his neck. His fingers unconsciously wandered to twist the wedding band Rukia had placed on his finger months before.

“You like her, _like_ her.”

“You need to find yourself other people besides Karin to spend time with. She’s rubbing off on you.” Ichigo avoided his sister’s gaze. “And you’re wrong, by the way. We’re just friends. Co-workers forced to spend more time together than necessary for the sake of television.”

“You’re a bad liar, Onii-chan.” Yuzu stuck her tongue out at her brother. Their bantering was cut short when Rukia bustled back into the waiting room, now dressed comfortably, her dark hair tied up. She had a large sports duffle on her shoulder, ready to head out. “I’m sorry for the wait. We can go now.”

Behind her stood two escorts, dressed completely head to toe in black. Ichigo didn’t question it; he knew how many fans attempted to wait for the artists near the parking garage in efforts to catch a glimpse of them as they left the arena.

The petite singer lead the way, the two siblings following after her, Ichigo catching up to walk beside her. He reached over and took the duffle from her. She looked up in surprise and opened her mouth to protest but before she could, Ichigo had settled the bag on his shoulder and gave her a _‘Don’t Even Try to Argue With Me’_ look.

“You just spent nearly three hours performing and have another show tomorrow night. You should take it easy.”

Rukia bit her lip and looked ahead. “Alright…thanks.” She picked up her pace, once again, taking the lead, as they got closer to the parking garage. Yuzu gave her brother a meaningful look and Ichigo purposefully ignored her.

After being escorted through a mob of fans, the trio found themselves safely inside of Ichigo’s personal car. Strapping on her seatbelt, Rukia gave Ichigo a hopeful glance. “How about we go for a late dinner?”

“Bulgogi?” Ichigo suggested, with a raised eyebrow.

“ _Please_.”

After their dinner, the three of them found themselves back in the apartment. Yuzu had excused herself to the restroom to get ready for bed leaving the tired couple to sit on the living room couch.

Rukia reached over sluggishly and poked Ichigo’s arm. “Hey, Ichigo?”

The orange haired man grunted in reply, his eyes looking down at her. “Yeah?”

“Did you like the chocolates I left out for you this morning?”

Ichigo bit back a smirk at the memory of discovering the neatly packaged box of chocolates she had left on the coffee table for him this morning. She had written him a little card that read:

_Happy Valentine’s Day, Fake Husband!_

_I made these for you earlier. I’m sorry I couldn’t give them to you in person. Make sure you share with Yuzu-chan!_

Rukia had attempted to draw a stern looking bunny version of herself at the end of her message.

Despite it being early, Ichigo had taken a bite, pleasantly surprised at the deliciousness and not much later found that he had consumed the entire box by himself.

“They were disgusting.”

“I hate you, Kurosaki.”

* * *

 

A few days later, Rukia found herself nervously shifting outside the recording room that Ichigo and his band mates were recording in. She was waiting to get the okay to enter from one of the producers.

Ichigo and his band had begun the process of recording their highly anticipated Korean album not long ago and her schedule had finally allowed her the opportunity to come and visit her pretend husband in the studio.

He had no idea that she would be dropping by; Rukia was looking forward to seeing him in his element and meeting his band mates. Her hand tightened around the carton cup holder holding a variety of different beverages not knowing what types of drinks Ichigo’s band mates may like. She did make sure to get Ichigo his favorite drink--he was rather fond of the iced Americanos at the coffee shop they frequent.

She was slightly startled when the door opened and one of the producers poked his head out. “You can come in now, they’re taking a break from recording.” He stepped aside to give her room to walk in.

“Hello!” Rukia called out, bowing immediately. Her eyes immediately found a stunned looking Ichigo who sat on one of the couches in the spacious room in-between a large, curly-haired man, and a spiky haired woman. Leaning against the wall near the couch was a dark-haired, slim male. Behind his glasses, were disinterested looking blue eyes. She recognized them immediately as the other members of HOLLOW.

It had seemed that the four of them were mid-conversation upon Rukia’s entrance. Ichigo stood from his spot on the couch and made his way over to her, taking the drinks from her hands to set them on the coffee table. “What are you doing here, Rukia?”

Rukia frowned at him. “I wanted to surprise you and see you at work,” She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him “Do you not want me here?”

The woman on the couch snorted at the exchange. “Ichigo, it looks like you’ve upset your wife.”

“She’s not my real wife, Tatsuki,” he retorted before turning back to Rukia, his eyes softening. “I didn’t mean it like that. You just caught me off guard.”

She squinted her violet eyes at him before nodding. “I hope I didn’t intrude on anything.” The black haired singer turned to face the other three strangers in the room and gave them a bow. “Hello, my name is Kuchiki Rukia. It’s great to finally meet you all.”

The two that were seated instantly stood, returning her bow.

“I’m Arisawa Tatsuki.” The girl with the spikey hair gave her a smirk. She shoved the larger man towards Rukia and patted him on the back.

“Yasutora Sado. But you can call me Chad.”

The bespectacled man who had been leaning against the wall was the only one that walked up to her and extended his hand. “Ishida Uryu. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you as well, Kuchiki-san.”

Rukia shook his hand and flashed him a small grin. “Likewise, Ishida-san.” After her greeting, she gestured towards the drinks. “I didn’t know what anyone but Ichigo liked so I brought a variety of drinks. Please feel free to choose from them.”

Tatsuki let out a shout of enthusiasm. “I like her already, Ichigo. She’s a keeper.” The taller woman reached for the closest drink to her and took a long sip. “Thanks, Kuchiki-san.”

“Just Rukia’s fine.” She waved her off and then turned to Ichigo giving him a satisfied smirk. He pointedly ignored her, making grab for his iced Americano.

The group spent some time making conversation; the band shared stories and told Rukia about their experiences the past few months in South Korea. Their conversation was cut short when the producers called them back into session.

“It was nice to meet you all!” Rukia told them, standing up from her seat. Before following his band mates into the booth, Ichigo grabbed Rukia’s shoulder, stopping her from leaving the room.

“Why don’t you stay and listen for a bit?”

* * *

 

_WEEK 15 - Ichigo Plays Guitar for Rukia:_

It was an unusually quiet and calm day for Ichigo and Rukia. The sound of soft strumming filled the otherwise quiet living room in their shared apartment. Rukia, who had been drawing on her sketchpad diligently, looked up. A tiny smile pulled at the corner of her lips at the sight in front of her.

Ichigo hummed along to it, his eyes closed, seemingly mesmerized by the sweet sounds. The sunlight streaming in from the window behind the couch filtered in and bathed him in light, his orange hair appearing golden under the lighting.

Putting her pencil down silently, Rukia pulled out her cellphone, lifting the phone to focus the camera on Ichigo. She grinned to herself as she took a couple of shots, saving them to her camera roll.

“Are you taking pictures of me, midget?”

Nearly dropping her phone in surprise, Rukia noticed that Ichigo had stopped playing and was watching her in amusement.

“Never seen a good looking man play guitar before, Kuchiki?”

Rukia scoffed and put her phone down. “I wouldn’t quite call you good looking, Kurosaki.” Standing up from her spot on the ground, the petite singer shuffled her way to sit by Ichigo.

“Play some more,” she demanded, her eyes twinkling. “I’ve never seen you play at home until now.”

Ichigo attempted to hide a smile at her excitement. “Any requests?”

Rukia tapped an index finger to her chin in thought. “Play me your favorite song.”

Laughing through his nose, Ichigo readjusted the guitar on his lap, fingers tuning the strings, the sound of occasional strumming filling the room. Before starting the song, Ichigo looked over at Rukia. “Oi, midget?”

She hummed in response, giving him a questioning glance. “When are you gonna play for me?” he asked her teasingly.

“I don’t know how to play guitar, fool.”

Ichigo snorted and lowered his gaze back to his guitar, his fingers positioned over the strings. “I’ll teach you some time.”

“I’d like that.”

* * *

 

_WEEK 17: Couple Photo Shoot_

“A couple photo shoot?” Ichigo asked, his eyebrows reaching his hairline. He was currently seated beside Yoruichi, who had just informed him that his next event that day would be a couple’s photo shoot with Rukia.

The two had garnered a large following through the past few months they had been doing _We Got Married_ and they had been asked to do a couple photo shoot for a fashion magazine’s next issue.

“Yes, Ichigo, as I already told you--a couple photo shoot.” His manager’s golden eyes watched the road in front of her with frustration. “This traffic is ridiculous. We’re gonna be late.”

Nearly forty-five minutes later, Yoruichi was dragging a grumbling Ichigo onto the location, apologizing profusely for their tardiness to those working the shoot. They were reassured and told that they had worked on Rukia’s solo shots as they waited.

“Please come with me, Mr. Kurosaki.” A young woman, Ichigo assumed she was a stylist, hurriedly lead him towards a rack full of various outfits. She was quick in selecting an ensemble, shoving them into Ichigo’s arms. “Please change into this as quick as possible and make your way to hair and make up.” She pointed over to where there was a group of chairs set in a large vanity that was adorned with a large number of products.

When Ichigo followed her gaze, he was met with a grinning Rukia who sat one of the chairs. Her hair was curled softly at her shoulders and she had a woman readjusting strands to frame her face a certain way. The petite musician was already dressed in an outfit that was perfectly coordinated with the one that was handed to him. She gave him a quick wiggle of her fingers.

“Go get dressed quickly, Kurosaki!” she yelled from her spot teasingly. Ichigo shook his head and gave her a small smile before turning back to the stylist, who led him to the change rooms.

Once he was dressed, made up, and his hair was perfectly tousled, Ichigo was taken to one of the various sets that were built in the studio; the first one they would be shooting at was a spiral staircase decorated with fairy lights. Rukia was already seated on the bottom step waiting for him.

“About time!” she crowed, standing up. She pulled Ichigo to her side by his arm. The photographer approached the two of them, a large portfolio at hand.

“Nice to have you join us, Mr. Kurosaki.” The photographer bowed politely and Ichigo returned his bow. “The concept for this shoot is to capture a natural and happy relationship between two people. I just want you both to be comfortable with each other and have fun--similar to how you two are on screen.”

Rukia looked up at Ichigo with a faint smile. “We can do that for you. Is there a particular pose you’re looking for?”

The photographer stared at the staircase with a pensive look on his face. “I’ll have Mr. Kurosaki sit on the step closest to the middle,” Ichigo did as was told and sat down unsurely. He felt completely out of his element--photo shoots had never been his favorite.

“Yes, like so.” The photographer continued to stare at him analytically and Ichigo twitched under his scrutiny. “Mr. Kurosaki, spread your knees a bit. Miss Kuchiki, please have a seat one step under his and lean onto him.”

Ichigo balked at the pose that was expected and at Rukia’s sudden proximity to him. He felt her warm body against him, the back of her head pressed against his abdomen. His arms were at in an awkward position--he didn’t quite know where to put them.

“Kurosaki, you’re looking uncomfortable. Remember to look natural.”

Rukia tilted her head upward to look at his face with a mischievous smirk. She reached upwards and clasped his arms, bringing them down to wrap around her shoulders. “I don’t bite, Ichigo,” she whispered to him.

“Shut it, midget,” Ichigo whispered back through clenched teeth. Rukia only snorted in response. They stayed in that position for a bit, the only sound being that of the camera shutter and the photographer’s praises.

After a few shots, Rukia let her small hands travel upwards and intertwined her fingers with Ichigo’s. She suppressed a smile at the feel of his sharp intake of breath. They did several more shots on that set and at one point, Rukia climbed up a couple of steps and settled herself on Ichigo’s shoulders, hugging him from behind.

“You’re doing well, Ttal-gi,” she whispered in his ear reassuringly. She was relieved to see that he was becoming slightly more relaxed with her encouragement.

“Perfect.” The photographer came out from behind his camera. “Please go get changed for the next set of photos.”

After changing into a rather uncomfortable all white suit, Ichigo was led on to the next set, which consisted of a simple floral backdrop. Rukia was already there, in a pretty silky dress, three stylists making adjustments on her hair and touching up her make-up.

The photographer was there too, portfolio in hand, already turned onto a demo picture that demonstrated the pose he was particularly envisioning for this set of photographs.

“See how he leans his chin onto her shoulder?” The photographer traced at the photo, looking at Ichigo. “That’s the pose I’m looking for. Nice and comfortable.” The photographer patted Ichigo’s arm and made his way over to the camera.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Ichigo made his way over to stand behind Rukia; from his position, he was able to see just how tiny compared to him she actually was. He bent slightly, his arms coming to hover around her waist, his chin awkwardly finding her shoulder.

“Ichigo,” Rukia huffed with a laugh, “Relax.” She grabbed his arms and brought them to rest on her waist instead of uncomfortably hovering.

The shutter of the camera began once more, and as the shoot progressed, the two slightly altered their positions. Ichigo’s chin lifted from her shoulder and pressed his face closer to hers. He was able to feel the softness of her cheek against his, and the warmth of her breath.

Surprised at his change in poses, Rukia whirled to face him and was met Ichigo nose to nose. He gave her a little embarrassed smile. “Yo.”

Rukia bit her lip in an attempt not to grin at his bashfulness, yet failing to do so. She rubbed the tip of her nose against his slightly, letting her hands roam to where his rested, cradling them.

“Hi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! i hope you all enjoyed it!


	5. week 20-25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picnics and traveling!!

_WEEK 20: Springtime Picnic_

“We should have just brought the car, Rukia,” Ichigo panted tiredly, light perspiration already forming on his forehead. The early April warmth hardly brought any breeze. His hand tightened against the guitar case he carried, and he shifted the backpack on his shoulders.

The walk to the park had been scenic--the cherry blossoms had already begun to bloom beautifully. He would probably have enjoyed it more had he not been carrying a heavy load with him.

Trailing behind them were a couple of crew and staff from _We Got Married_ , Ichigo having admittedly, gotten so used to the cameras and producers, that he almost forgot they were around.

“We’re already here, Ichigo, don’t be a baby,” Rukia scolded. “This spot is good. What do you think?”

“I don’t care where we sit at this point,” he grumbled, ungracefully plopping his items on the grass and throwing himself down not a moment later. Rukia lightly kicked at his leg, and placed her hands on her hips. “Ichigo, I have to set the blanket, roll over.”

Sitting up and scooting over, Ichigo reluctantly did as he was told. The tiny singer struggled to spread the picnic blanket across the grass, but managed to get it done. The moment the blanket was spread, Ichigo sat in the middle, dragging the picnic basket to him.

“I’m starving,” he groaned, pulling out everything that Rukia had packed: diced fruit in various containers, rolls of gimbap, a thermos of hot water, and two cups of instant spicy ramen noodles.

“We really should learn how to cook,” Rukia snickered. Ichigo smiled as he brought up a sliced piece of gimbap to his mouth.

“Hey, I can cook,” he replied. “Speak for yourself.” Rukia only elbowed his ribs in response, reaching for a grape and popping it into her mouth.

After eating their share of food, the two of them spent some time leaning back on their hands. Rukia smiled at the sight of Ichigo rubbing his stomach appreciatively.

“How about you teach me how to play now?” Rukia crawled over to his guitar case, pulling it towards him.

“Don’t feel like it.”

“Ichigo!”

Letting out a small sigh, Ichigo popped open the case, removing the guitar from its safe confines. He took his time in making sure the instrument was tuned and ready for Rukia. Once he was done, he placed it carefully on her lap.

Rukia cradled the guitar and looked at him with anticipation. “How do we start?”

Ichigo bit a smile at her enthusiasm. “The first step is to make sure the guitar is tuned, which I already did.”

“Now we’re going to try to play a chord.” He came up behind her and took her left hand, which held on to the guitar’s neck, placing her fingers onto the correct strings and gave her his guitar pick. “Now try strumming.”

She clumsily strummed at the strings but let out a gasp of excitement at the soft sound that emerged from the instrument, her pretty violet eyes looking up at him with childlike wonder. “I did it, Ichigo!”

He gave her a proud smile and placed a hand on her head, her raven locks soft beneath his hand. “Now we’re going to try that again.”

Rukia followed his instructions once more, eager to make the sound once more. Nearly ten minutes of Rukia’s experimental strumming had passed before she spoke again. “Hey, Ichigo?”

“Yeah?”

She gave him a happy smile, her chin resting on the body of the guitar. “Will you teach me how to play one of your songs?”

Ichigo bellowed out an amused laugh. “You only just learned how to play a chord, midget.”

“But one day, when I’m able to play as good as you, will you teach me?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes, the corners of his lips pulling into a smile. “I’ll teach you.”

Rukia smiled back and lifted the guitar away from her lap, handing it over to him. “I think I’ve learned enough for today.”

“You’ll never learn to play as good as me at this rate,” he replied, putting the guitar back into its case. After his guitar was stowed away safely, he stretched his arms above his head and let out a small groan. “I need a nap.”

Rukia stretched her legs out and patted her lap, looking at him expectantly. Ichigo looked at her unsurely.

The petite singer sighed impatiently. “Well, aren’t you going to want somewhere comfortable to take your nap?”

 Slowly, the orange-haired musician placed his head onto her lap, facing the sky. Rukia wasted no time in sneaking her fingers into his thick locks, working her fingers into a soothing motion.

The warmth of the sun on his face, the light breeze’s caress, Rukia’s slim fingers running through his hair, and the sound of people’s laughter was relaxing enough to lull him to sleep in minutes.

Looking down at Ichigo’s peacefully sleeping face and continuing to play with his orange locks, Rukia smiled to herself.

From a small distance, the show’s producer in charge gave her fellow coworkers thumbs up, signaling that they would wrap up filming for now as one of their two subjects rested.

“Maybe they weren’t such a terrible pair up after all,” she murmured to herself, watching the intimate interaction between the not actually married couple.

* * *

_WEEK 25: One last trip_

**TO: Kurosaki Ichigo ♥ Kuchiki Rukia**

**Congratulations on six months of marriage! As a gift to you, the staff of _We Got Married_ has gifted you a two-day, two-night trip to the beautiful Jeju-do! Please pack your belongings and be ready for your transportation later this evening.**

“Ichigo!” Rukia yelled, closing the door to the apartment behind her. She had gone downstairs after an alert from her cellphone notified her to go check their mailbox.

He poked his head outside of the bathroom doorway, a toothbrush in his mouth. “What?”

She waved the card around, with a stunned smile on her face. “Hurry up and get out of there.”

“Why?” He walked back into the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth. Rukia peeked into the doorway, watching him. “Because, Kurosaki, according to this mission card, we are going on a trip to Jeju Island.”

He spit out the water he had been rinsing his mouth with and turned to look at her blankly. “We are?”

“We are--now let’s go. We have to pack up-- it says we’re leaving tonight!”

“Rukia, we have all day to pack,” Ichigo groaned as she pulled him out of the bathroom.

It was late in the night when they finally arrived in Jeju-do, and soon after arrival, the two of them found themselves inside a modest sized villa the staff of _We Got Married_ had been kind enough to rent for them. Upon laying eyes on the beautiful home they would be spending their time in, Rukia was filled with excitement, barely resisting the urge to run around and look at everything like a small child from the moment she entered.

Instead, they explored together and discovered a well-stocked kitchen, two very cozy looking bedrooms, and found a balcony upstairs with a great view of the ocean from the distance. The downstairs glass doors lead to a small outdoor pool and several lounging chairs.

“The house is so nice!” Rukia sang as she threw herself onto the small couch of the villa’s living room. Ichigo hummed in agreement, sitting down next to her.

“What are we going to be doing tomorrow?” Ichigo asked his pretend wife, laying an arm over his face, eyes closed.

The traveling hadn’t been long but the wait at the airport and the running around Rukia had made him do in the afternoon had worn him out. He was ready to sleep and was admittedly excited about finally sleeping on a bed in a while. He had been alternating between sleeping on a futon in their apartment living room floor and their couch although, at Rukia’s insistence, he took the bed whenever she didn’t spend the night in the apartment.

Rukia reached into the bag she still had over her shoulder and pulled out a pamphlet that they were given by the staff that had driven them to their villa.

“They made us a schedule,” she told him. “Tomorrow morning we’re going out for breakfast and then take a packed lunch with us while going on a tour of the island. It says we’ll be hiking. We have the evening to ourselves. The next day, as it’s our last before leaving in the evening, we’re free to do as we please.”

Ichigo let out a tired sound of acknowledgement to let her know he had heard. Rukia’s eyes softened as she took in his exhaustion. She nudged his shoulder with her hand. “You should head up to sleep.” A teasing smile grew on her face. “You don’t want to spend one of the two nights here sleeping on the couch.”

Ichigo moved his arm to give her a small glare before standing from the couch. “Let’s head up to bed then, midget.”

* * *

The sun was finally setting after their first day exploring the island. They had spent most of the day being taken to different various sightseeing locations and were ending their first day with riding their bikes around the Yongduam Coastline, taking in the beautiful scenery around them.

Rukia had been particularly impressed with the sight of Yongduam Rock, exclaiming about how it really looked like a dragon. Ichigo had smiled at her excited chattering, always amused at how certain things could bring out a more childlike Rukia.

The show’s crew had been following them around all day, documenting their adventures for the next episode of the show. Ichigo had felt a bit bad for the cameramen; they had to be exhausted.

The two of them parked their bikes and were now clumsily stepping over rocks on the shore to look over the expansive ocean in front of them. Ichigo breathed the salty air in deeply, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts, the sound of the ocean already relaxing him.

“It’s nice here, isn’t it?” Rukia’s hair blew wildly around her face; the ocean breeze was strong.

“It is.” Ichigo agreed. “I almost don’t want to go back.”

“Almost?” Rukia snorted and tucked her hair behind her ear. “If I could drop everything and stay here forever, I would.”

“Is the pretty scenery making you all sentimental, Kuchiki?” Ichigo teased. Rukia pinched his arm at his goading, ignoring his snickering. The orange haired boy turned away from the ocean, but not before offering Rukia his hand. “We should head back--we’ve got dinner to go to.”

She pointedly ignored his extended hand and gave him a smirk. “I’m perfectly capable of walking back without your help, Kurosaki.” Rukia carefully stepped over rocks, attempting to avoid some of the more slippery ones, heading in the direction where they had left their bikes.

* * *

Ichigo let out an uncharacteristically happy sigh, enjoying the beautiful sight of the coast as Rukia drove them to their next destination; they would be spending their afternoon hiking the trails up the cliffs that overlooked Sanbangsan Mountain. Their luggage was already packed away in their rental, ready for when they would have to make their way to the airport in a few hours, straight from their location.

The orange haired musician was exhausted after an eventful morning spent diving. Rukia had eagerly suggested they go diving on their last morning over dinner the previous night, claiming that it was a must-do when visiting the island.

Ichigo though, had been more unwilling to go diving but he hadn’t enjoyed the twist of his stomach at Rukia’s disappointed face when he had initially denied her suggestion and had eventually agreed.

After nearly a half hour of driving, Rukia announced their arrival and was bounding out of the car, the camera around her neck at the ready. She had her lightly packed backpack on her shoulder.

“We only have a few hours before we have to head out to the airport.” Rukia frowned as she started on the upward trail, hand on the railing.

Ichigo shared her disappointment; he had been enjoying himself and all the great things Jeju had to offer. He wished they would have more time to explore the island.

Admittedly, he was also grateful for the amount of alone time he had been spending with Rukia--sometimes when they were back in Seoul they could go days without seeing each other due to their conflicting schedules, but here, he had been able to spend nearly every waking moment by her side.

He had grown fond of the midget. _Almost too fond_ , he thought to himself. He knew that eventually, there would come a time where the two of them would no longer be “married” and they would go their separate ways.

Ichigo knew Rukia wouldn’t be likely to forget about the bond they had forged and would want to keep in contact after the show, but a part of him still worried that once the connection the variety show gave them was no longer there, they would eventually grow distant. He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat at the thought.

The next hour devoted to their trek to the top had been spent in relative comfortable silence with the occasional interruption of one of them pointing out something particularly beautiful on their way up or Rukia insisting that they take a photo together.

Panting slightly from the exertion, Rukia glanced at Ichigo pensively. The man was leaning on the railing that gave them a breathtaking view of the ocean, his hair in disarray from the high winds.

For most of their journey, she had hardly heard a peep from him, he was seemingly lost in thought. Rukia had been growing concerned; it was unlike Ichigo to not pick an argument with her for more than an hour over the smallest things.

“You’ve been oddly quiet, Kurosaki.”

His eyes, which had been glazed over as he stared out in front of him, refocused as he looked down at her. “Have I?”

Rukia nodded at him, a light expression her face. She reached up and poked his cheek. “A penny for your thoughts?”

Ichigo only shook his head with a smile on his face. “I was just thinking about…about us. And, I don’t know, it’s been a while now and we don’t know when this is all gonna come to an end.” He shrugged a bit, his expression a bit uncomfortable. “How in a few months we might not even really talk anymore.”

Rukia studied him in silence for a moment before letting a little smirk tease the corners of her mouth. “You’re gonna miss me.”

Ichigo scoffed and looked away from her, back towards the ocean. “Not really.” _Yes, he would._

“Oh, you definitely will!”

“Not even a little.” _A lot._

Rukia laughed at his awkward facial expression and placed both hands on the railing. “Well--I’m going to miss you,” she paused for a moment, “but only a little bit.”

Ichigo snorted and brought one of his hands up to run it through his hair.

“And Ichigo?” Rukia’s smile softened and she slid one of her hands to cover the one he kept on the railing. “I can promise you that even after the show ends for us, I’ll still be around.”

Ichigo let a tiny grin light up his face as he looked down at her hand. Not a moment later, he turned his hand palm up, intertwining his larger fingers with her tiny ones.

“That’s good to know, midget.” He let us body turn to face her, his amber eyes finding her gleaming ones, looking at her with warm affection.

“You know what, Kurosaki?” Rukia started, stepping closer to him, her smile growing as she looked up at him.

Ichigo subconsciously found himself leaning down, face inching closer to hers, his own smiling growing at the sight of hers. “What is it, Kuchiki?”

“I think I’ve been a little too lenient with you calling me midget, lately.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she let go of his hand to wrap her arms around his neck, bringing his face down to hers, capturing his lips in a soft, almost hesitant kiss.

Ichigo responded immediately, his hands coming to rest gently on her hips, pulling her closer to him, moving his lips with hers tentatively.

After a moment, he reluctantly pulled away, his eyes searching Rukia’s face. Her cheeks were flushed, not unlike Ichigo, her eyes tender, an embarrassed smile lighting up her face.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Rukia admitted bashfully.

Ichigo let out a laugh at her embarrassment and drew her in for an embrace. “Me too,” he confessed. He felt her smile against his chest, her small hands fisting the back of his shirt and he brought his mouth down to press a kiss to her temple. “It looks like you beat me to it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! i hope you all enjoyed it!


	6. final week and epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In where our favorite duo file for divorce.

_WEEK 28: One final memory_

Rukia let out a tired sigh as she stared at the apartment door and let herself sag on the couch in relief. She had taken the time to hurriedly decorate the place for a surprise birthday party she had organized for Ichigo before he came home and had managed to do it all in record time.

Well, a party for two as it would be just the two of them (and the many, many cameras that followed them around the apartment).

She sat up and analyzed the living room critically one more time. The table was filled with various different dishes she knew he enjoyed; she had even enlisted the assistance of Yuzu who had helped instruct her in making some of his favorite dishes. It had not been an easy task, but Rukia had managed.

She had asked Matsumoto to drop by a tiny cake from a nearby bakery and she had a small gift wrapped for him sitting on the desk.

Rukia was interrupted from her musings when a chime from her phone filled the otherwise quiet living room. She reached for the phone beside her and looked at the notification; it was from the person working the door downstairs, she had asked her to send her a notification when she saw Ichigo walk into the building.

_Mr. Kurosaki is on his way upstairs._

Letting out a tiny squeak, the dark-haired woman lifted herself from the couch and rushed to light the solitary candle she had stuck on the cake. Lifting it carefully, Rukia made her way over to stand by the door at a safe distance to avoid being hit with it when Ichigo entered, vibrating with anticipation.

The smile on her face grew when a few moments later she heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the door and then beeping coming from the keypad, meaning Ichigo was entering the passcode for the apartment.

When the apartment door swung open, Rukia brought the cake up to Ichigo’s stunned face, a grin at her lips. “Happy Birthday, Ttal-gi!”

Ichigo let out a light laugh, grabbing the cake Rukia had offered up to him. His eyes shone with surprised happiness. “Thanks, Rukia.”

* * *

 

“I don’t believe you made any of this,” Ichigo said, referring to the meal he had just had. He leaned his head to rest on the back of the couch, stomach full.

It was later in the evening and the two had spent the last few hours enjoying food, cake, and each other’s company.

Rukia let out an offended scoff. “Of course I made it all.” She jabbed his rib with her elbow, ignoring his grunt of pain. “The only thing I didn’t make was the cake.”

“No wonder that was what was best tasting from all I ate today,” Ichigo teased, a smirk on his face.

Rukia glared at him. “You’re terrible. I don’t know why I bothered with any of this.”

“Because you love me.” he said it jokingly but Rukia had sensed the hitch in his voice when he spoke.

Rukia snorted, attempting to follow along with his jesting but gave him a meaningful look. “I do--for some strange reason.” Ichigo’s amber eyes softened, as he stared at her, resisting the urge to pull her close.

Since they had shared their first kiss a few weeks ago, the two had experienced several bouts of awkwardness. The two of them had avoided a conversation about it until a while after their return back to Seoul; Ichigo hadn’t been able handle the tension and had asked Rukia what they were.

She had given him her signature grin, full of playfulness and had only responded with: “Last time I checked, we were husband and wife.”

Ichigo had been ready to retort exasperatedly but when she had reached for his hand and intertwined her fingers with his, he had recognized it as a silent confirmation that she felt more than friendship for him. From then on their relationship continued to bud, although they had to be particularly careful in front of the cameras.

“I got you a gift by the way.” Rukia suddenly said, standing from her spot on the couch next to him. She was about make her towards the desk where she had kept the wrapped parcel when she was suspended by the sudden knock on their apartment door.

The two of them exchanged confused glances.

“Did you invite anyone else?” Ichigo asked her as he walked towards the door. Rukia shook her head in negation.

Ichigo opened the door expecting to find another person on the other side but instead, found a neatly wrapped gift box. At the top was a red envelope; Rukia was slightly perplexed at the sight of it, as they had already received their weekly mission card earlier in the week.

“Maybe it’s a birthday gift from the staff?” Rukia suggested as she walked over to Ichigo who had closed the door and set himself on the floor with the box.

Ignoring the letter, Ichigo opened the box and was puzzled to see a thick photo album. He slid it closer to Rukia so that she, too, could have a closer look. She felt a sense of unease at the sight of the photo album.

Opening the thick leather cover, the two were met various pictures of themselves. Rukia hummed. “They sent us a memory book.” As they turned the pages, they exchanged amused laughter as they reminisced about the moments the pictures documented.

“This is all that’s left to look at.” Ichigo held up the red envelope after they reached the last page in the album.

Rukia stretched out her hand to take the red envelope from his hands, removing the card that was inside. She felt her heart sink into her stomach at the words that she read.

**TO: Kurosaki Ichigo ♥ Kuchiki Rukia**

**We regret to inform you that today your virtual marriage will be concluded. Please enjoy your last moments as a married couple and make one last memory together.**

“What is it?” Ichigo asked anxiously, bothered by the expression her face.

Rukia attempted to smile against the growing lump in her throat. “It looks like we’re filing for divorce a little sooner than expected.”

Ichigo’s face fell and he softly tore the card from her hands, his amber eyes attempting to read the hangul as best he could.

“And on my birthday.” He tried to keep his voice light but Rukia knew better.

“How rude of them,” she agreed with a sad smile, her eyes stinging.

The room was filled with an uncomfortable heaviness, neither one knowing what to say next. Rukia cleared her throat and gave him her best grin. In an attempt to alleviate the sudden tension in the room, she changed the subject. “Hey, I still haven’t given you your gift.”

She ambled over to where she kept the parcel, Ichigo following behind her. “Here you go.”

Tearing open the wrapping paper and lifting the lid off the box, Ichigo looked up at Rukia with a blank expression, suppressing the amusement that threatened to break his façade.

“Rukia, really?”

The petite entertainer let out a twinkling laugh and reached into the box pulling out the t-shirt she had had him custom made. It was decorated with none other than a copy of the drawing she had presented him with the day of their first meeting; she had had to recreate the drawing as Ichigo still had the original.

“You know you love it.” She winked at him and held the shirt to his chest.

Ichigo shrugged coolly. “It’s alright.” He let a teasing smile spread across his face. “You know, Rukia, your drawing’s improved.

“You’re the worst,” Rukia laughed, shoving him onto the couch, sitting herself next to him.

“Oi, Rukia?”

“Hmm?”

Ichigo flicked her forehead playfully and gave her a soft smile. “I’m gonna miss having you around.”

Rukia gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m not going to let us miss each other _too_ much Kurosaki.” She leaned her head to rest on his shoulder and closed her eyes. “You’re going to be so sick of me.”

* * *

 

The next morning, found the two of the quietly working together to pack up the apartment. Their companies had been fast at work; they had already arranged to have moving trucks sent.

Within hours, Ichigo and Rukia saw the place they had come to call home stripped bare. The only things that had been left behind were the furniture they had brought together months ago and two silver bands placed side by side on the living room coffee table.

* * *

 

“Something that made your pair-up very memorable to viewers, was that you two did not get along very well in the beginning,” the producer began, “at the conclusion of your virtual marriage, do you still wish you had had a different partner?”

For one last time, Kuchiki Rukia found herself sitting in the large, spacious room where over seven months ago, she had had her first interview regarding her virtual marriage to Kurosaki Ichigo.

“Maybe just a little part of me does,” she jested with a tiny smile before shaking her head. “I’m glad I got stuck with that fool. I wouldn’t exchange him for anyone else.”

* * *

 

_3 YEARS LATER:_

Ichigo found himself attempting to ignore the questioning and amused glances of passersby that walked past him on one of the paths in their local park.

To be fair, he guessed he was a rather unusual sight; it was not everyday people were greeted with the vision of a large, orange-haired man being led by an adorable little bunny.

He supposed he should be used to the looks by now, as he was a veteran in taking Chappy for walks in public at this point.

“Ichigo!”

The man in question ceased his strolling and turned to face the owner of the voice. Rukia jogged to catch up; her hair had grown quite a bit and blew behind her with the gentle summer breeze.

She gave him an apologetic smile, extending to him one of the two ice cream cones in her hand. “The line was long.”

“No worries, midget.” He took the cone from her hand and resumed their walk, Chappy hopping ahead of them.

Rukia happily hummed, as the sweet taste of ice cream filled her mouth. She looked up at Ichigo and noticed he was eating his own cone with a serene smile that was so unlike him on his face. She was about to question his good mood when she noticed several of the stares Ichigo was receiving.

She suddenly remembered their brief conversation from years ago and bit back a smile.

Ichigo was ripped from his thoughts when he felt, Chappy’s leash being taken from his hands. He glanced up to see Rukia’s tiny body walking in front of his. The orange haired man frowned in confusion.

“What are you doing, midget?”

She partially turned her face to give him a tiny smirk. “I’m shielding you from all the weird looks.”

Ichigo laughed and moved to walk beside her once more. “After three years?”

“Better late than never.”

Ichigo took back the leash and wrapped it around his wrist. “Those weird looks are no big deal.” He reached down and grabbed her left hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.

“I’m glad you’ve finally grown some thick skin, Ttal-gi.” Rukia teased him.

 

“Shut it, midget,” he told her with no bite to his words, his own lips pulling at a smile. Rukia let out a little laugh and swung their intertwined hands between them, the diamond ring on her fourth finger glinting with the rays of the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the final chapter! once again, thank you for reading!! i hope you all enjoyed it (and excuse any mistakes).


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